


Flower Perennial

by AlwayzHuman



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cats, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-28 00:51:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12594360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlwayzHuman/pseuds/AlwayzHuman
Summary: John followed his gaze and was met with two men weaving through people with a strange looking device in one of their hands. One was short and stubby with light brown hair that was thinning while the other was tall and thin with red hair. Both of the men wore a lab coat over scrubs and didn't care about bumping into other people.





	1. Prologue: Cat

The two legged have a saying: A cat has nine lives. They just don't know how true that reigns; My kin and I do, though. We are born, we live, we die, and we repeat until we have lived nine lives. Some of the two legged, or humans, believe in reincarnation, and they're close, but the reincarnation is meant for cats only. We are the guardians of the world. Whether for good or evil depends on the cat themselves but we are meant to guide and protect the humans during each of our lives. How do we know this to be true? We cats remember each and every single one of our lives.

During my first life, I helped guide a little girl home to her family every time she got lost in the woods on the way to her grandmother's house. I remember being very lively back then and took everything for granted. Because of that, I ended up getting the poor girl and her grandmother eaten by wolves. After that, I took my role as guardian very seriously. I learned to properly protect and adjust quickly to new places. I've made many friends along the way too but only one ever kept crossing paths with me in every life. The two legged gave him a different name every life, just as they did the same with me. We each had only one cat name that stayed the same throughout all of our lives. Because we are cats, we originally did not have names. However, mostly in my earlier lives, there have been a few two legged that understood us cats. It was because of these few two leggeds that my kin have started to have names for each other. His name was Ahote, meaning Restless One, just as mine is Leotie, meaning Flower of the Prairie.

We never meet up in the best situations either. Being chased by dogs, being hunted by the two legged, hostages by other cats, etc. Sometimes I'd be the one in danger but most of the time it is Ahote getting himself into trouble. Again. He's such a mischievous tom cat, but I couldn't love him more. Yes, love. It's the only reason we could find that could explain why we keep crossing paths. Unfortunately, in my latest life, I haven't seen the tom cat around anywhere. In fact, I haven't even really been outside all that much during this particular life. In this life, I'm a Siberian cat who's been living with a woman named Stacy.

Speaking of which, Stacy had a day off of work today and spent most of her time baking all sorts of treats for her coworkers in our tiny apartment kitchen. She went out close to lunchtime, probably having lunch with some friends, and soon came back to bake some more. It was dusk when she finally deemed to have made enough. Stacy, a woman in her mid twenties with light brown hair and dark brown eyes, sat on her couch with a bowl of popcorn in her hands as I jumped up onto her lap to rest and watch TV with her. Stacy leaned forward, careful not to knock me off, and grabbed the TV and xBox remotes from the coffee table while placing her popcorn to the side temporarily. She turned on the TV and switched on the xBox, navigating her way to Netflix as per usual. While she waited for it to load up, Stacy began petting me softly.

"What do you feel like watching tonight, Snow-drift?" Stacy asked, looking down at me. Yes, she named me Snow-drift in this particular life. The only response Stacy could hear was purring and a small meow from me. However, I actually did respond to her question.

'Whatever you want that is interesting. Please none of those talking animal shows,' I requested. 'Those just get annoying after awhile.' I remember when she had her niece around for a month and would only watch shows and movies that had talking animals in it. It was fun for a while but then they just got annoying the more they watched. Netflix finally loaded and Stacy signed in. She and I browsed through many shows and movies until she found one. 'Sherlock'. I remember Stacy complaining at one point about how it was the only thing her coworkers would talk about most of the time and how many of her coworkers think Sherlock and John should just get together.

"How about some Sherlock Holmes?" Stacy asked her cat. Now, some may think that Stacy is insane for talking to her cat but, as any good cat owner knows, it is normal to talk to your cat. It happened a lot in a few of my past lives. I look over to the screen and read the show's description.

'Sounds interesting enough,' I tell her. Of course, Stacy only heard a long, light-hearted meow from me.

"Yeah, it definitely looks good. Let's watch a few episodes. See if we like it," Stacy said, pressing the button to play the first episode. There was laughter, shock, and gasps coming from the woman. Eventually, when John had left his cane behind, Stacy squealed with excitement, hurting my sensitive ears. I jump off of Stacy's lap and onto the coffee table to get away from the high pitch sound of the female two legged.

'Calm yourself, two legged,' I scolded. 'I too am excited but do I screech? No, I don't, thank you very much.'

"Sorry, girl," Stacy said, petting me some more before continuing to watch the show. One show soon became two, then four, then I lost count. I couldn't hold back the hiss when Sherlock jumped from the building while Stacy just cried her eyes out on the couch behind me. Then I let out a huff of laughter when John started fighting Sherlock for not telling him that he was alive. Serves him right. When that episode was over, I looked over at the two legged to find the young woman asleep, lightly snoring. I jumped to the couch and over to the two remotes to turn off the xBox and TV. I may be a cat, but I wasn't as much of a Luddite as the majority of my kin.

Suddenly something circular popped in front of the TV. The papers closest to the TV on the coffee table rustled, moving closer to the TV very slowly. Just before the papers could fall, I hopped over again and placed my paw on the sheets, preventing them falling and making a mess for Stacy to pick up later. I pulled the papers back away from the edge before jumping down and walking over to the circle, curious as to what it could possibly be. It was a rainbow mix in color and had a fairly strong pull to it once you got closer. As I got closer, the wind pulled more forcefully. Many smells were coming from it, odd ones that I've never smelt before along with the more familiar ones mixed with it. It's probably not wise to enter it but something is telling me that I need to go through, that I had a mission on the other side. So I did. As I fell through, I felt my body growing and morphing, crushing bones and fixing them rapidly in different forms. I yowled in pain but became more fearful when my yowl wasn't cat-like anymore. In fact, it sounded more human like in my ears, like when Stacy would scream when watching a horror movie. I then saw light ahead and my gold-green eyes squinted at the brightness. Pavement suddenly appeared before me as it came rushing to meet me. Once I crashed with the pavement, I just laid there out of breath, still sore from my bones being crushed and rebuilt. Once I regained my breath I used my front limbs to lift myself up a little.

Then froze.

I stared at where my paws were supposed to be and found human arms instead. The more I looked myself over and found that I had indeed turned into a two legged, the more I freaked out mentally. From what I could see I wore sneakers, jeans, a black tank top, a white zip up sweater, and all the appropriate undergarments all female two leggeds need.

"Wha…?" My voice came out hoarse do to my previous screaming. I took a deep breath, calming myself enough to survey my surroundings and found that I was in an alley. I noticed a broken mirror ahead of me, just near the entrance of the alley. I rose to my, now, two feet and began to wobble over to the broken mirror. I felt off balance and shaky, mostly because I'm on two legs and I have no tail, but I managed to make it to the mirror and kneel in front of it. I saw a female two legged, early to mid twenties maybe with tanned skin, golden-green eyes, and short white hair that was just barely longer than a pixie cut with black highlight-spots staring back at me. I, as I studied my new appearance, didn't notice a male walking by.

"Hey," the male two legged greeted from a crouched position to me. "Are you okay, miss?" I gasped and quickly backed away, not prepared to interact with two leggeds the way I currently am. "Woah! Calm down, miss. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm Investigator Greg Lestrade. What's your name?" I knew that name but I couldn't believe that was actually him. "Do you know where you are?" I shook my head 'no', still in shock. "Why don't I take you to the yard?" He asks reaching out to me to take my hand. I flinched away, still not believing the circumstances I am in, and made a noise in my throat that sounded almost like a growl, can't control habits. I never did like unfamiliar two leggeds touching me. I was missing my usual vocals already. Greg backed up then to give me some space. "Okay… no touching then. How about following me to the yard then? It's not too far from here." I thought for a moment then nodded in agreement. I need to find out how that portal appeared and why I felt like I needed to be here. Greg got up and waited for me at the end of the alley. I rose to my feet again and wobbled. Greg looked like he was about to rush to help me but my growl stopped him. This is going to be a long walk.


	2. Chapter 1: Detective and Doctor Meet Cat

One month before the return of Moriarty

It was just a normal sunny day at 221B. John was writing his blog, Mrs. Hudson was making the two men tea while telling them that she's not their housekeeper, and Sherlock was shooting the wall once again out of boredom. There were no good cases in sight at the moment and John refused to let him perform any experiments in the kitchen for fear of another explosion. Sherlock heard his phone ping from the desk next to John.

"Take a look at that for me,"Sherlock said to the doctor, who rolled his eyes and took a look at the phone. Bang went the gun. The device pinged again. "They're desperate." Bang. "Maybe it's a murder."

"It's Greg," John informed as Mrs. Hudson brought the two gentlemen their teas.

"Obviously." Bang. The phone pinged again.

"Apparently he found a girl in an alley."

"Boring unless she was murdered." Bang.

"She was found staring at a broken mirror."

"Dull." Bang.

"She is having troubles walking. It is as if she'd never walked on two feet before."

"Unexciting." Bang.

"She behaves very cat like."

"Bland." Bang. Another ping was heard.

"Her name is…several different ones?" Sherlock lowered the gun and turned to John with a questioning look. "I'm just reading what is being sent," John said with a shrug. Another ping. John reads what it says. "Leotie, Snow-drift, Minnie, Clementine, Princess Fluffy, Shadow, Tree Climber, and Mavis. And none of them are nicknames either."

"This child just has a great imagination that will fade away once she reaches her teenage years," Sherlock said, raising the gun again. Ping. "Her real name is Leotie." Bang.

"Sherlock, she looks like she's in her twenties," John said, holding up the phone, a picture of Leotie's human form standing being shown. Sherlock barely glances at the picture.

"She must be mentally unstable, then." Bang. John typed what Sherlock said to Greg. Mrs. Hudson had left by then to return to her room. Ten minutes later, another ping was heard. John heaved an annoyed sigh.

"Greg needs our help. She is being uncooperative now and is scratching any one who comes near her. Apparently she doesn't like being called crazy." John got up to grab his jacket.

"What does Lestrade expect us to do about it?" Sherlock said with his own annoyance of the situation.

"I don't know about you but I'm going to try to calm her down before she decides to scratch someone to death and then I'm going to help the injured," John said as he headed towards the door.

"Why can't we just wait until she murders someone?" Sherlock asked like a pouting little kid. "Maybe we could get lucky and have it be Donovan or Anderson." Sherlock followed the doctor, curious as to how the rolls have switched for today. They made it out of the flat and hailed a taxi to the Yard where Greg met them outside and led them inside to where the girl was. He explained how she was very cautious of everyone, how she refused to sit in a chair, how her nails were sharp when she went to fight back, and how she hurt several of the officers while they trapped her in an interrogation room. They went into the room on the other side of the one sided mirror to watch her. Sherlock observed her as she paced the room, staring at the door with caution and anticipation. The detective found it odd that she stumbled, even if it was barely noticeable now. Her nails were long but didn't really look all that sharp. Her ears were slightly pointed and twitched from time to time, like she could hear them without them having to push the button. Her eyes shifted to the one sided mirror, looking straight at Sherlock. Sherlock became confused when he saw her eyes and how her eyes alone showed centuries of wisdom.

"She can hear us," Sherlock stated. Greg and John looked at him with a disbelieving look in their eyes.

"No she can't," the DI stated. "I don't have the intercom open-"

"Just because you do not use your technology, DI Greg Lestrade, does not mean I am unable to hear you," Leotie stated, her eyes shifting to the DI.

"Who are you?" Sherlock asked. Leotie's eyes shift back to him.

"In which life? With which name?" Leotie asked. "Or perhaps you wish to know my guardian name? Then again, you've already figured that out, have you not?"

"Leotie, Flower of the Prairie." She held her head up with pride when Sherlock spoke her true name and it's meaning.

"Flower of the Prairie?" John asked.

"The meaning of her name," Sherlock informed, taking a quick glance at the doctor beside him before returning his gaze to the woman.

"Deduce me, Sherlock Holmes," Leotie ordered. Sherlock paused for a moment, taken back by the fact that he had just been ordered by a stranger. "Tell me what you see. What is my past and who am I?"

"You are a woman in your twenties," Sherlock started. Leotie didn't stop him because in Cat years, she was roughly in her twenties. "You have troubles walking but from the looks of it, you've fixed your strides swiftly. Based on physical structure, you are very athletic but perhaps you haven't been out much recently, whether by choice or injury is still unsure. And-" He watched as Leotie suddenly breathed deeply and her eyes became Cat-like for a split second before returning human.

"Ahote," she whispered. They were about to ask her to repeat what she said when she suddenly ran for the door and began to try to open it. What they didn't know was that she could smell Ahote in this dimension, he was close, and could sense that he was in trouble. She just needed to get out and help him before something happens.

"Open the door,"Sherlock told the DI. "We'll follow her." Greg did as told and watched Sherlock and John chase after the girl as she zoomed by. Leotie quickly studied her area, taking in her different exits, before deciding to jump out the window. While in the air, she turned herself around and grabbed the gutter drain, making it suddenly snap and slow her fall to the ground. John and Sherlock watched her from the window as she slowly made her descent with the bending metal.

"She could have died," John complains.

"I know," Sherlock said with excitement before running for the stairs. "Clever girl." John just stared after him with annoyance before following the tall man.

"You're enjoying this way too much," the doctor grumbles. The duo make it outside just after she touched the ground. The detective noticed how her running was much more messy and wobbling than her walking and suspected that this was how it looked with her walking before she fell into rhythm with it. He also suspected she was quick to learn because her running evened out a little after a few blocks. She kept running on and on but eventually collapsed on the ground, tired and muttering to herself about Ahote and scents.

"She's going to make a good addition," Sherlock said, smirking at John as they caught their breaths.

"What?!" John shouts in disbelief.

SHJWSHJWSHJWSHJWSHJWSHJW

It has been two days since Leotie has entered this dimension and she has been living on John and Sherlock's couch. She had finally adjusted to being human when John decided to take her out shopping for more clothes since, Sherlock was currently having a meeting with his brother. The two were having lunch before heading home when John started asking her questions that had been bothering him since he first met her at the Yard.

"When we met, why were you running?" John asked. She finished the food in her mouth before wiping it.

"Someone I knew ended up coming over here as well. I could tell he was in danger and wanted to try to get to him but I lost his scent and, not being used to running on two legs, became more tired the longer I ran. I will find him, but it will take some time," Leotie explained before eating more.

"What's his name? Maybe we can help find him," John suggested. She gave him a look as she continued to eat. "His name is just as complicated as yours, isn't it?" Leotie smiled and winked, indicating he was right. John sighed and ate some of his food. "If you're Leotie, what is his equivalent name?"

"Now you're asking good questions. His name is Ahote," Leotie explained. She then tells him a few adventures that she and Ahote have had together, leaving out the bits about them being cats and being reincarnated until she feels secure with him and Sherlock. John asked why she calls everyone two legged instead of humans and she answers with a vague and confusing reply. They would have continued with the Q and A but John received a text from a certain tall man requesting to meet them at a crime scene as soon as they could. So they left to drop the bags at their flat before continuing onto the crime scene where they met with Lestrade, who showed them to the bedroom Sherlock was in.

The case: Kidnapped child.

The consulting detective relays his findings to Leotie and John, informing them that the kid, a boy around 13 years of age, ran away instead of being kidnapped. He also informed him that it was the older brother's fault for bulling the child. What Sherlock couldn't figure out was where the kid had disappeared to. Leotie watched in mild disinterest as Sherlock and John poked around the bedroom. Her ears twitched as she heard John shuffle through the papers left on the dresser and Sherlock crawl underneath the bed. She breathed in a deep sigh through her nose as she mentally prepared herself for a small cat nap right on the floor when she caught the faint scent of something familiar. Leotie sniffed delicately and, padding softly across the floor, followed her nose to the closed closet where the aroma was strongest. Opening the door, she was hit with the intense smell of fresh soil, wild flowers, trees, and sunshine. Without anyone seeing, she layed down on the floor with her face buried in the rug where she could feel a small amount of dirt that had collected there and reminiscing in memories of her times in the woods as a cat. After several minutes, she could hear John asking about her whereabouts in the bedroom.

"I'm over here," Leotie said softly. However, because her face was in the carpet, no one could hear her. The searching went on for several minutes before John finally opened the closet, which had closed on it's own some time ago and found her on the floor of the closest like she was some hidden dead body.

"Why are you laying on the floor?" John had asked, gathering the DI's and Sherlock's attentions to the closet.

"Because it smells like the woods," Leotie mumbled, her voice muffled by the carpet. Then Sherlock joined her in the floor with his tiny magnifying glass and found dirt that, after analyzing it, came from the woods near the house, where they had to track the boy down. It soon really did turn into a kidnaping because the elder brother found out and went after the child. They were able to get the runaway free but the bully was trying to run off in an attempt to escape prison. Thankfully by this point, Leotie was almost perfect at walking and running on two legs, although she still wobbled from time to time. Being in the woods, however, just made it easier for her to run, whether it be from her Cat past or because she feels more confident in the woods she didn't know. She tackled the criminal within a few minutes, not allowing him to get very far from the police. He struggled and tried to fight and push her off but soon stopped when she accidentally let a warning predator-like growl loose and let one of her hands rest on his throat. The only movement from the older brother after that was his fearful shaking. John and the DI had to rip her off the terrified boy until she calmed down. Leotie mentally went over what had just happened and realized, with annoyance, that she still had her aggressive feline side from the time she was a mother lioness with a cub that always got bullied.

SHJWSHJWSHJWSHJWSHJWSHJW

Leotie has been staying with Sherlock and John for the past week and has become a great help to them on their adventures. Albeit, it's only been ten cases so far. For poor John, living with these two made him frustrated. Leotie talked in riddles and acted like a cat nearly all the time and Sherlock talked madness and shoots the wall. Currently, Sherlock was playing the violin while Leotie was curled up on the couch with her eyes closed, which was her form of meditation. John was thankful because this was the most peaceful day he has had with the two, meaning he was able to drink his tea and read the newspaper in his chair peacefully. He was determined to enjoy the peace before either of them decided to open their mouth again. Neither males noticed one of Leotie's ears twitch just slightly.

"I can smell Mycroft and Greg coming up," she said, not moving from her spot or opening her eyes, just listening. However, she soon became confused when she only heard one pair of footsteps instead of two. Sherlock made a sour note on his instrument but otherwise didn't move. Yes, Leotie did happen to meet Mycroft once during the week after the kidnapping case. Sherlock got payed for solving cases, John got payed because of the hospital he worked at, but Leotie had no degree for a job which means no income. So now she is working as Mycroft's spy to keep an eye on the younger Holmes while she splits the money with the other two males.

John sighs as he folds his paper and gets up to open the door before Mycroft decides to enter without knocking again. Leotie half opens her eyes and stares at their guest, confirming just the one guest. She got up as Sherlock, John, and Mycroft did their usual greeting and walked over to the door to investigate and smell around. She could smell the DI but could not see or hear him anywhere. She followed the scent to Mycroft before she finally understood why she could smell Greg.

"My mistake. Your smell has just changed," Leotie stated as she returned to the couch to curl up and rest while the boys played. Sherlock leaned forward and smelled his brother, who tried to flick his younger brother away, to see what Leotie was talking about. Sherlock dodged the flick as he realized that he smelled nothing out of the ordinary on his brother.

"What are you talking about, Leo?" John asked while the two Holmes argued. Leo was the nickname that John had given her after the kidnapping case, he said that she reminded him of an angry Lioness defending her cub, and he would use it when he felt calm and not under pressure of a tight situation or a case. Leotie looked over to the doctor and smiled sweetly at how dull his senses were compared to her own.

"Cats rub their smell on their property. Whether it be living or not," Leotie said cryptically. Mycroft suddenly goes rigid but smooths out just as quickly.

"Humans can't smell as finely as cats," Mycroft scolded her. Her eyes closed as she enjoyed the warm couch.

"Do say hello to DI Greg Lestrade for me when you see him again," she said softly. Mycroft tensed as Sherlock gave his 'you'll never hear the end of this' smirk to his brother. Mycroft's visit ended shortly after that.

"I'm glad you kept her," John said, glad that the sibling rivalry was at a minimum today due to Leotie and her sharp senses.

"I couldn't agree more," Sherlock said, his teasing look slowly becoming a questioning one. "Although I am still curious as to how your senses are so sharp. I couldn't smell anything different." Leotie opened her eyes again to stare at the two men. She'd never tell them, at least not anytime soon, but John and Sherlock do tend to gravitate towards each other more often than not. She just needed to wait for the right time to tell them of her observations.

"The unnatural and the strange have a perfume of their own; You two leggeds are unable to truly smell the hormones of others," Leotie said before closing her eyes once more. This time with the intention to nap. The detective and the doctor looked at each other in hopes that the other understood what the humanized feline meant.


	3. Chapter 2: The Cat and Doctor Watch the Detective Fall

"He's getting away!" Lestrade shouts as the culprit, a running athlete with a hobby of herbology, runs away from the police, Sherlock, John, and Leotie. The athlete was tired of losing the majority of his competitions and decided it who be a great idea to experiment with herbs to make the other runners slow down. Too bad his experimentation went sour and caused one of the runners to die.

"Why do they always run?" Leotie asks as she, John, and Sherlock all give chase, the two following the consulting detective the whole time.

"They don't always run," John countered. "Just most of them." They continued their chase for several long minutes before Leotie finally got bored of running on the ground. She grabbed the next fire escape ladder that they passed and parkoured her way to the roof and began chasing the criminal from there. Because she was using different a method of speed, she was able cut off the runner as he nearly collided with her. Now she was in front of the runner while John and Sherlock were coming in from behind. It was strange but Leotie suddenly felt a little dizzy, much like back home when she would eat…

'Oh no…' Leotie thought. Of course the herbalist athlete would also be experimenting with catnip. She was just thankful that it was just a small amount of catnip, but that doesn't mean that Sherlock didn't see her slight waver for a split second. Leotie quickly recovered and got into a fighting stance before anyone else could see her waver. The athlete, seeing that he was surrounded, fell to his knees in defeat until the police showed up to handcuff him, allowing the cat girl to relax her stance. John and Leotie, once again, followed Sherlock as he sauntered away from the scene.

"We'll be at the Yard at noon tomorrow to give our statement," Sherlock shouted to the DI over his shoulder. They had just made it out of the alley when Leotie stiffened suddenly. John was the first to notice her lack of steps and stopped to turn and look at her before grabbing Sherlock's attention as well.

The detective noticed her eyes first, they were cat-like just like back in the interrogation room of their first meeting, then he saw her stance, as though she was getting ready to either run or fight. He could tell that she wasn't looking at anything in particular, only that she could sense danger coming, so he began to examine everyone around them on the busy sidewalk. Then he spotted them.

"Leo?" John asked, trying to grab her attention. Her response was to growl at the noise and slink back into the alley. John followed her with his eyes as she continued to move back until she was successfully hidden on the ground behind the dumpster. "Leotie?" John was worried now, not having seen her like this before, and was about to go in after her when a hand on his shoulder stopped him. The doctor turned to look at his taller flatmate and noticed that his eyes weren't on him or Leotie, but farther down the sidewalk.

John followed his gaze and was met with two men weaving through people with a strange looking device in one of their hands. One was short and stubby with light brown hair that was thinning while the other was tall and thin with red hair. Both of the men wore a lab coat over scrubs and didn't care about bumping into other people. They were muttering, either to themselves or each other John couldn't tell but he could tell that they were arguing, and seemed to slow down a little when they got near John and Sherlock only to continue on until they rounded into the next alley.

John felt a rush of wind fly passed him before he noticed Leotie running towards the flat, which he would later realise was in the opposite direction that the two men left, like her life depended on it. Sherlock and John chased after her but she was considerably faster than them, despite only learning how to walk and run on two legs in less than a month, and made it to the flat long before they did, giving her time to hide. When the detective and doctor finally reached the flat they began their long search; Sherlock couldn't even deduce where exactly she had gone. All Sherlock could figure out was that she would be under something, much like a cat would when frightened. They were able to rule out Mrs. Hudson's room and the basement, the older woman had informed them that she heard someone running up the stairs to their flat. They began in John's room and the kitchen; looking under tables, chairs, under the bed, in cupboards, and in the closet. No Leotie. Then they checked every possible hiding spot in the living room/study. Again, no Leotie. Sherlock sat on the couch and went into his mind palace to interrogate the Leotie in his head as John recheck every hiding place before the doctor finally stopped with realization and turned to Sherlock. Leotie was smart, she would have hidden where she thought no one would think to look. Once the detective became frustrated with imaginary Leotie, he exited his mind palace and met the doctor's eyes, he took notice of the doctor's face and could see the realization in his eyes.

"Your room," John said before running off, Sherlock following. They made it in the messy room within seconds of John's words. Even from Sherlock's eyes, nothing looked out of place. John went straight to the bed and kneeled on the floor, lifting the blankets and seeing a shivering Leotie underneath. She shook more and flinched at having the cover of the blanket being removed as her cat-like eyes locked onto John's, who has never really seen her eyes like this before, and portrayed all the fear of the world in a single glance.

"Please don't let them get me," Leotie whispers. John slowly reaches his hand under to help her out and she slowly accepts it. Sherlock helps bring her back to the living area and set her down on the couch as she continued to find the floor more interesting to look at. John left to go make some tea for her while Sherlock questioned her actions.

"We'll start with something easy. You wavered slightly when we caught the runner, why?" Sherlock asked as he sat in his chair and threaded his fingers together, making deductions as he stared at her.

"I could smell catnip on him," she answered, not looking up yet. "It wasn't much but it was still enough to make me a little dizzy."

"Do you know those men, the ones you hid from?" Sherlock asked. She shook her head 'no'. "Then why were you scared of them?" She slowly looked up and straight into the detective's eyes, her cat eyes slowly fading back to human ones as she thought of how to explain.

"How were you so sure that John would end up being your flatmate and not run off after all you've put him through? How are you so sure that John will come running to your aid even if he's on a date? How are you so sure you're fighting on the side of angels? You could spend two seconds looking at a menu or even fifteen minutes and still not know what to order. Idiots will be sure of what they think they know, but true intelligence will always come from wondering. So tell me, Sherlock Holmes, how can birds know when to migrate south for winter? How can a dog or cat tell when a large storm is coming?" She asked, her shaking slowing down.

"Simple magnetic pull and and atmospheric pressure," Sherlock countered, trying to understand why she was saying all of this. The whistle of the kettle could be heard from the kitchen.

"Perhaps when electronically measured by you two leggeds but how can an animals do such a thing? With our 'sixth' sense? We can't tell you if the magnetic pull has changed or if the atmosphere has shifted. We rely on what we feel in order to move in the correct direction. You two leggeds wish to always make everything about science and fact or faith and religion when really, the fact of the matter is that feelings can be more powerful than you can imagine. You can find things by seeing while I can find them by feeling. Once you realize how powerful a single feeling is, you'll never think anything is impossible." John, having been listening to the whole thing, finally came back with the tea for Leotie, who quickly took a sip of it and immediately felt the last of her nerves disappeared.

"Are you saying you could find out where those men went based on a mere feeling?" Sherlock challenged. Leotie eyed him and opened her mouth to reply when Mycroft sauntered into the room with a folder under his arm.

"What do you want?" Sherlock asked, getting up and going to his violin.

"Obviously he has a case for us. Or, more specifically, an interesting lab the belongs to the men from before for us to investigate," Leotie informs, causing the two brothers to stare at her. John just groaned and shook his head, silently complaining about how she's actually taking the challenge. "Feelings can be a very powerful thing, Holmes brothers." She then busied herself with studying Mycroft. "Sherlock will deny the case for now because it is not yet time for us to pay a little visit to the lab yet. Also, Mycroft is also planning to propose to Lestrade within the two months after he has his parents meet him."

"Brother mine!" Sherlock shouts in a teasing manner, a wicked smirk on his face. John knew what was coming next and just plopped down on the couch next to Leotie while the Holmes brothers argued and teased.

"One day they'll be doing this because of you," Leotie said to the doctor, who just nodded before realizing what she just said. He turned to ask her what she meant but found that she had curled up to meditate while her empty cup was on the coffee table. An hour passed before Mycroft finally left and Sherlock did refuse to go check out the lab for his older brother for now. Leotie knew, though, that they will be going to the lab one day. It's use a matter of when.

SHJWSHJWSHJWSHJWSHJWSHJW

One week

"Peter Ricoletti: number one on Interpol's Most Wanted list since 1982. But we got him; and there's one person we have to thank for giving us the decisive leads ... with all his customary diplomacy and tact," Lestrade announced. Sherlock smiled briefly at the DI's speech.

"Sarcasm," John and Leotie both whispered to him at the same time. John stood to Sherlock's right while Leotie stood to the consulting detective's left.

"Yes," Sherlock said, his smile falling from his face. The press applauded as Lestrade brought over a wrapped gift for the consulting detective.

"We all chipped in," Lestrade explained. Leotie turned her head to hide her face from Sherlock, knowing she would never be able to hide her grin from the present's contents. When Sherlock finished opening the present, he took out the deerstalker hat. Sherlock tries, and fails, to smile at Lestrade as a thank you for the present. Leotie starts shaking with held in laughter at a few of the reporters demand Sherlock to it the hat on.

"Just get it over with," John whispers, glaring at Leotie's shaking form. Sherlock shoves the hat on and gives the press a smile with gritted teeth before glaring at Lestrade as if planning his murder. The trio returned to 221B Baker Street afterwards. John decided to sit on the couch reading the papers while Sherlock, who put his blue dressing gown over his shirt and trousers, stomps across the room and throws the Daily Star onto the pile of newspapers on the coffee table.

Leotie was busy making tea and baking cookies for the two men.

"'Boffin'. 'Boffin Sherlock Holmes'," Sherlock complains indignantly.

"Everybody gets one," John states, trying to defuse Sherlock's irritation.

"One what?" Sherlock asked, becoming more irritated by the second.

"Tabloid nickname: 'SuBo'; 'Nasty Nick.' Shouldn't worry – John will probably get one soon too," Leotie explained as she pulled the cookie sheet out of the oven.

"Page five, column six, first sentence,"Sherlock barks out. John turns to the relevant page as Sherlock goes over to the fireplace, picks up the deerstalker, holds it up and punches it angrily. "Why is it always the hat photograph?"

"'Bachelor John Watson'?" John says out loud for Leotie to hear as she prepares the tray for them. The cat woman unsuccessfully hides a snort at John's Tabloid nickname, earning her a glare from the doctor.

"What sort of hat is it anyway?" Sherlock questioned.

"'Bachelor'? What the hell are they implying?" John grumbles as Leotie enters the living room with the tea and cookies. Sherlock is holding up the hat and twisting it back and forth rapidly

"Is it a cap? Why has it got two fronts?" John glances up briefly to look over at the consulting detective as Leotie places the tray on the coffee table and grabs a cup before seating herself next to John. She love watching their 'conversations'.

"It's a deerstalker," John explained before turning back to the the article and reading allowed. "'Frequently seen in the company of bachelor John Watson …'" Leotie nearly snorts her tea but was able to stop herself this time.

"You stalk a deer with a hat? What are you gonna do – throw it?"

"'... confirmed bachelor John Watson'!"

"Some sort of death frisbee?"

"Okay, this is too much. We need to be more careful."

"It's got flaps ... ear flaps. It's an ear hat, John." Sherlock accurately skims the hat across the room to Leotie, who doesn't have to do more than bend her wrist to catch the flying object.

"What do you mean, 'more careful'?" Sherlock asks, turning to the two on the couch.

"I mean this isn't a deerstalker now; it's a Sherlock Holmes hat. I mean that you're not exactly a private detective anymore." John holds his thumb and forefinger an inch apart. "You're this far from famous."

"John just doesn't like being called a bachelor in the newspaper," Leotie mumble, just barely loud enough for Sherlock to hear. Sherlock smirked at her while John just glared at the female human cat. "Oh, did I say that out loud?" She questions with fake innocence in her voice.

"Oh, it'll pass," Sherlock reassured as he slumps down into his armchair and folds his hands in the prayer position in front of his mouth. As John just grumbles to himself.

"The press will turn, Sherlock. They always turn, and they'll turn on you," John warned his lowers his hands and looks more closely at John.

"It really bothers you."

"What?"

"What people say."

"Yes."

"About me? I don't understand – why would it upset you?" John holds his gaze for a moment, then looks away.

"Just try to keep a low profile. Find yourself a little case this week. Stay out of the news." John starts to adjust the pillow nearest him.

"Awe," Leotie coos as she leans forward and places her cup down while grabbing one of the, now warm, cookies. "Johnny boy cares so much about his detective." She placed the cookie in her mouth just as a pillow hit the side of her head due to a certain agitated ex-soldier. A phone in the living room trills a text alert a few hours later. Sherlock had moved to sitting at the table in the kitchen, looking into his microscope. John comes along the corridor from the bathroom with wet hair, wearing a bathrobe and rubbing the back of his neck with a towel.

"It's your phone," John states.

"Mm. Keeps doing that," Sherlock informed with disinterest. John walks into the living room, goes past the body in a suit which is hanging by its neck from the ceiling, sits down in his chair and picks up a newspaper. The body sways gently as Leotie paws at it while sitting on the ground.

"So, did you just talk to him for a really long time?"John asked. "Leo, stop doing that. You're not a cat." She just snickers at his comment and continues to paw at the swinging body. Sherlock looks up and glances across to the body where the mannequin continues to swing.

"Oh. Henry Fishgard never committed suicide." He picks up an old hardback book from the table and slams it shut in a flurry of dust, making Leotie pause for a moment, before going back to his microscope. "Bow Street Runners: missed everything."

"Pressing case, is it?"

"They're all pressing 'til they're solved." Leotie rolled her eyes before going back to her game. Sherlock's phone pings and the human cat gets up off the floor.

"I'll get it," she announces before walking over to the table and grabbing his phone. She opens it up to look at the message. She read it once… then twice… and then once more. She swiftly changed from cheerful to horror to sorrow. "Oh no…"

"Leo?" John asked, seeing her change in mood. "What's wrong?"

"I forgot…" She said, starting to shake. She knew what was coming. He was back. The phone fell out of her hand and she stayed standing, looking straight ahead and shaking. The thudding of his phone on the ground caught Sherlock's attention. While John tried to get Leotie to return to her normal state, Sherlock grabbed his phone and read the message that paralyzed his friend.

Come and Play.  
Tower Hill.

Jim Moriarty x

Sherlock sat back in his chair and gazes into space. This grabbed John's attention and he started to try to attend to Sherlock.

"Not you too," John complained. When Sherlock and Leotie recovered, Sherlock informed John of the text they turned to Leotie to tell her to come with them to the tower only to find that she had disappeared. They shrugged it off, thinking that she already started making her way to Tower Hill, and left the flat. When they got there they began to watch the security footage, after finding that Leotie was not there at all.

"That glass is tougher than anything," Lestrade informed.

"Not tougher than crystal carbon. He used a diamond," Sherlock said, studying the video further. Greg adjusts the footage, which shifts to a recording taken from the other side of the glass. The footage also goes into reverse, showing the glass rising back up into place before it shattered. As Jim pulls back the fire extinguisher again and the glass becomes whole, the message which he scrawled onto it becomes clear. He deliberately wrote the words backwards on the glass so that they would be seen from the camera on the other side of the case. With the smiley face inside the "O," the message reads:

GET  
SHERLOCK

John turns and stares at Sherlock, worry evident, but his eyes are fixed on the screen. Later, the two men return to their flat, Leotie still had not returned but they ad other things on their mind in that moment.

The next day, John is standing in front of the mirror in the living room. He is wearing a suit and finishes tying his tie before putting on his jacket. Near the sofa, Sherlock is buttoning up his own jacket while watching John's reflection. Sherlock leads the way downstairs and goes to the front door, then stops and turns to the side to allow John to pass him and reach out towards the door just as it opens to reveal the missing Leotie finally walking in. She looked tired and out of breath but seemed to be fine otherwise. She waved at the two men, clearly not in the mood to talk and explain, before slowly walking up the stairs to rest. John turns to Sherlock then.

"Ready?"

"Yes." Bracing himself, John opens the door. Police officers are trying to hold back the large crowd of journalists who immediately start photographing the pair and calling out questions as the police clear the way and allow the boys through to the waiting police car. John points Sherlock towards the nearest rear door of the car.

"Get in," John orders. As Sherlock does as instructed, John goes round the back and gets in the other side and the car pulls away and races off with its sirens wailing.

The boys walk into the living room after the trial and find Leotie asleep on the couch. John sits in his chair while Sherlock begins to pace the room.

"Bank of England, Tower of London, Pentonville. Three of the most secure places in the country and six weeks ago Moriarty breaks in, no-one knows how or why," John lists. "All we know is …"

"... he ended up in custody," Leotie said, not moving from her spot right away. Sherlock stops and turns to John. John takes a breath.

"Don't do that," John ordered.

"Do what?"

"The look."

"Look?"

"You're doing the look again."

"Well, I can't see it, can I?" John points to the mirror above the fireplace as if Sherlock's an idiot for not realising it's there. Sherlock turns his head and looks at his reflection. "It's my face."

"Yes, and it's doing a thing. You're doing a 'we both know what's really going on here' face."

"Well, we do."

"No. I don't, which is why I find The Face so annoying."

"If Moriarty wanted the Jewels, he'd have them. If he wanted those prisoners free, they'd be out on the streets. The only reason he's still in a prison cell right now is because he chose to be there," Leotie explained for John. She stretched before sitting up and sitting crisscross on the couch while Sherlock starts to pace again.

"How do you know Moriarty?" John asked Leotie. "You really shouldn't be effected by him." The human cat rolled her eyes.

"Because, little cub, I know centuries worth of information," she said. She knew it wasn't time to explain her kind's culture. Not yet. Not until Sherlock came back. Two years. That's all they had to wait for.

"Somehow this is part of his scheme," Sherlock mumbled, ignoring their conversation. The more John tried to ask about Leotie's involvement, the more cryptic she became. Later Sherlock – who didn't go to court for the next two days– sits sideways on the sofa with his back against the arm nearest the window. John left to watch the court while Leotie had disappeared again. Wearing his blue dressing gown over his clothes, he softly recites the only words that the judge can possibly say in his summing-up speech. His recitation is interspersed with the actual words from the judge, and frequently their lines overlap. Sherlock closes his eyes. "Guilty," Sherlock whispers. His phone rings and he answers it to hear his male flatmate's voice.

"Not guilty. They found him not guilty. No defense and Moriarty walks free!" John was furious as he hailed a taxi to come home. "Sherlock. Are you listening? He's out. You-you know he'll be coming after you. Sher... " Sherlock switches off the phone and gets up off the couch. In the kitchen he switches on the kettle and slams down a small tray beside it, putting a jug of milk, a sugar bowl, a teapot and two cups and saucers with teaspoons onto the tray. The kettle comes to the boil and switches off and Sherlock, now wearing a jacket in place of the dressing gown, makes the tea and takes the tray to the table beside John's chair, then walks over to his own chair and picks up his violin and bow. Downstairs the front door is expertly lock picked and pushed open. Jim's easily-recognisable shadow precedes him as he slowly walks along the hall and up the stairs. Partway up, one of the stairs creaks noisily and Jim pauses for a moment, as does Sherlock's playing. A couple of seconds later Sherlock resumes from a few notes before where he stopped and Jim starts to climb the stairs again. Sherlock, standing with his back to the living room door, keeps playing until Jim pushes open the door, then he stops but doesn't yet turn around.

"Most people knock," Sherlock informs. Moriarty just shrugs. "But then you're not most people, I suppose." Sherlock gestures over his shoulder with his bow towards the table. "Kettle's just boiled." Jim walks further into the room and bends to pick up an apple from the bowl on the coffee table.

"Johann Sebastian would be appalled," Moriarty says, tossing the apple and catching it, he looks around the living room as if searching for a seat. "May I?"

"Please." Sherlock turned to face him as he gestures with the end of his bow towards John's chair. Jim immediately walks over to Sherlock's chair and sits in that one instead. Sherlock looks slightly unnerved. Jim takes out a small penknife and starts to cut into the apple while Sherlock puts down the violin and begins to pour tea into the cups.

"You know when he was on his deathbed, Bach, he heard his son at the piano playing one of his pieces. The boy stopped before he got to the end ... "

"... and the dying man jumped out of his bed, ran straight to the piano and finished it.

"Couldn't cope with an unfinished melody."

"Neither can you. That's why you've come."

"But be honest: you're just a tiny bit pleased."

"What, with the verdict?" He picks up one of the teacups, adds a splash of milk and turns and offers the cup to Jim, who sits up straighter and takes it.

"With me ...back on the streets." He gazes up into Sherlock's eyes, smiling. "Every fairytale needs a good old-fashioned villain." He grins. Sherlock turns away and adds milk to his own cup. "You need me, or you're nothing. Because we're just alike, you and I – except you're boring." He shakes his head in disappointment. "You're on the side of the angels." He sips his tea as Sherlock picks up his own cup and stirs his drink.

"Got to the jury, of course."

"I got into the Tower of London; you think I can't worm my way into twelve hotel rooms?"

"Cable network."

"Every hotel bedroom has a personalised TV screen ... and every person has their pressure point; someone that they want to protect from harm. Easy-peasy." Sherlock has unbuttoned his jacket and sat down in John's chair. In a perhaps unconscious mimicking of the man seated opposite him, he too has his cup lifted close to his mouth.

"So how're you going to do it …" He pointedly blows gently on his tea. "... burn me?

"Oh, that's the problem – the final problem. Have you worked out what it is yet?" Sherlock has taken a sip of his tea and looks across his cup to the other man. "What's the final problem?" He smiles across his own cup. "I did tell you but did you listen?" He takes another sip of tea and then puts the cup down into the saucer. Putting his hand onto his knee, he starts idly drumming his fingers. Sherlock's eyes lower to watch the movement. "How hard do you find it, having to say 'I don't know'?" Sherlock puts his cup into its saucer and shrugs.

"I dunno."

"Oh, that's clever; that's very clever; awfully clever." He chuckles in an upper class tone. Sherlock smiles humorlessly while putting his cup back onto the tray. "Speaking of clever, have you told your little friends yet?"

"Told them what?"

"Why I broke into all those places and never took anything."

"No."

"But you understand."

"Obviously."

"Off you go, then." He has carved a piece off his apple and puts it into his mouth with the flat of his penknife. A switch blade knife suddenly appeared in Moriarty's apple, forcing him to drop it and make the two men involuntarily jump.

"You were advertising all the way through the trial. You were showing the world what you can do," Leotie informs as she walks into the room. She picks up the apple by the knife and starts to snack on it, causing Jim to pout slightly. "You find joy in watching all of the bidders compete."

"Who is this?" Moriarty asks, getting up to take a good look at the woman.

"I am nobody," she states. "At least, in this world I am nobody. Now if you don't mind, I have a doctor and consulting detective to prepare. They do seem to have a fall coming their way." She glares at the consulting criminal, her human eyes changing into that of a cat for a little bit before returning. Moriarty twitched, almost unnoticeable. "Oh yes, ally cat. I know what is coming. I know your plan. All of it. You will die far before either of the Holmes children do. Now, get out," she growls out at him. Jim turns to Sherlock.

"Call me," Jim teases before walking off and out of the flat. Leotie tosses the remains of the apple to Sherlock after taking the knife out. Jim had dug a large circular piece out of the apple, and on the left of the circle he has carved an 'I' shape while on the right of the circle is a 'U' shape, forming the letters 'I O U'. Sherlock's mouth twitches into the beginning of a smile when he sees that Leotie had nibbled around the letters. Leotie looked out the window before walking over to the door.

"I've got work to do," she states before walking out of the flat again. Sherlock was then left alone to his own devices until John came home.

SHJWSHJWSHJWSHJWSHJWSHJW

Two months later

John goes to a NatWest cashpoint machine and inserts his card. Typing in his PIN, he then selects a transaction. After a few seconds he is greeted with the onscreen message:

There is a problem with  
your card  
Please wait

John grimaces and a second later a new message appears:

Thank you for  
your patience.

A moment later the message adds:

John

John frowns and behind him a black car pulls up to the kerb and stops. John turns and looks at it, then turns back to the ATM, sighing in exasperation. However, he still hasn't learned his lesson about getting into strange cars and apparently meekly gets in and allows himself to be driven to an elegant white painted building which has a brass plaque outside declaring the venue to be THE DIOGENES CLUB. He goes inside and enters a large room which was probably a drawing room. A large marble fireplace surrounds an unlit fire and the walls have heavy wooden panelling and ornate white plaster coving. The room contains five small round tables, each with a single armchair beside it, and four of the chairs are currently occupied by smartly dressed middle aged or elderly gentlemen reading newspapers and taking no notice of each other or of the new arrival. John looks around and then walks over to one of the older men sitting at the far end of the room.

"Er, excuse me. Um, I'm looking for Mycroft Holmes," John asked, feeling out of place. The old man's face becomes appalled but he doesn't look up. "Would you happen to know if he's around at all?" Some of the other inhabitants of the room behind John look round at him but don't speak. "Can you not hear me?" The old man looks up at him, huffing indignantly. John holds out a placatory hand to him. "Yes, all right." He turns around to the others in the room. "Anyone?" The others turn their faces away from him. "Anyone at all know where Mycroft Holmes is? I've been asked to meet him here." The old man lifts his walking stick and pushes the end of it repeatedly onto a button on the nearby wall. A distant bell rings. John looks around in confusion while the gentlemen either ignore him or look at him in annoyance. "No takers? Right." He raises his voice. "Am I invisible? Can you actually see me?" Just then two men wearing dress coats walk into the room. John turns to them. "Ah, thanks, gents." Behind him, the elderly gentleman flaps his hand frantically at the new arrivals as if to say, 'Get him out of here!' The dress coated men, wearing white gloves and soft white overshoes to muffle their footsteps, walk briskly over to John. "I've been asked to meet Mycroft Holm…" He breaks off as the men walk either side of him and firmly seize his arms. "What the ...? Hey!" As they almost lift him off his feet, one of them puts his other hand over John's mouth to silence him. His muffled protests continue while they rapidly bundle him out of the room. Shortly afterwards John has been taken to a smaller room and the door has been closed firmly behind him. Mycroft is in the room with him and pours himself a drink from a crystal decanter.

"Tradition, John. Our traditions define us."

"So total silence is traditional, is it? You can't even say, 'Pass the sugar.'" John comments with much needed sass.

"Three-quarters of the diplomatic service and half the government front bench all sharing one tea trolley. It's for the best, believe me." He smiles round at John but then his face becomes more grim as he walks towards a pair of armchairs in the middle of the room. "They don't want a repeat of 1972. But we can talk in here." John walks to a small table and picks up a copy of "The Sun" which is lying on it. He brandishes it at Mycroft.

"You read this stuff?" John asked in disbelief.

"Caught my eye," Mycroft answered. John sits in an armchair.

"Mmm-hmm."

"Saturday: they're doing a big exposé." John reads the announcement at the top of the front page. The headline reads: 'SHERLOCK: THE SHOCKING TRUTH' with the strapline 'Close Friend Richard Brook Tells All'. The article reveals that it is an Exclusive from Kitty Riley and the text reads: 'Super-sleuth Sherlock Holmes has today been exposed as a fraud in a revelation that will shock his newfound base of adoring fans. / Out-of-work actor Richard Brook revealed exclusively to THE SUN that he was hired by Holmes in an elaborate deception to fool the British public into believing Holmes had above-average 'detective skills'. / Brook, who has known Holmes for decades and until recently considered him to be a close friend, said he was at first desperate for the money, but later found he had no" at which point the text just stops.

"I'd love to know where she got her information," John grumbles.

"Someone called Brook. Recognise the name?"John lowers the paper and shakes his head.

"School friend, maybe?" Mycroft laughs in a snide way.

"Of Sherlock's?" He chuckles again." But that's not why I asked you here." He walks to a side table and picks up several folders. Returning to John he gives him one of them. John opens the file and looks at the photograph on the top page.

"Who's that?"

"Don't know him?"

"No."

"Never seen his face before?" John looks at the photo again.

"Umm …"

"He's taken a flat in Baker Street, two doors down from you."

"Hmm! I was thinking of doing a drinks thing for the neighbours." He smiles sarcastically up at Mycroft who looks back at him straight-faced.

"Not sure you'll want to." He nods towards the folder. "Sulejmani. Albanian hit squad. Expertly-trained killer living less than twenty feet from your front door."

"It's a great location. Jubilee line's handy."

"John …"

"What's it got to do with me?" Mycroft walks over and giving him another of the files.

"Dyachenko, Ludmila." He sits down opposite John, who lets out a long tired groan as he opens the file and looks at the photograph inside before frowning a little.

"Um, actually, I think I have seen her."

"Russian killer. She's taken the flat opposite."

"Okay ... I'm sensing a pattern here," John states nervously. Mycroft hands him the rest of the files.

"In fact, four top international assassins relocate to within spitting distance of two hundred and twenty-one B. Anything you care to share with me?" Looking at the photographs of the other assassins, John chuckles, then looks up at Mycroft.

"I'm moving?!" Mycroft looks back at him unamused, then narrows his eyes.

"I don't think you have much to worry about. There were more but they've been slowly disappearing, cat like scratches were the only things left other than a mess. It's not hard to guess the common denominator though, is it?"

"You think this is Moriarty?"

"He promised Sherlock he'd come back."

SHJWSHJWSHJWSHJWSHJWSHJW

"So, still got some friends on the Force. It's Lestrade. Says they're all coming over here right now, queuing up to slap on the handcuffs: every single officer you ever made feel like a tit, which is a lot of people," John informed Sherlock as he lowered his phone. Sherlock appears to be taking no notice of him, and now Mrs Hudson knocks on the closed living room door with her customary 'Ooh-ooh!' and then comes in, still in her nightwear. The older woman can feel the tension in the room.

"Oh, sorry, am I interrupting?" Sherlock rolls his eyes and looks away. She turns her attention to John. "Some chap delivered a parcel. I forgot. Marked 'Perishable' – I had to sign for it." John takes the Jiffy bag from her and immediately realizes that there's a wax seal over the flap. Sherlock looks across and also sees the seal. "Funny name. German, like the fairytales." Sherlock rises to his feet and walks forward, his gaze intense and locked on the Jiffy bag as John opens it and pulls out the contents. Outside, the sirens of several different vehicles are approaching. In John's hand is a large gingerbread man but it's an unusual colour. He tilts it so that Sherlock can see it better.

"Burnt to a crisp." The vehicles pull up outside and the sirens stop, and doors start to slam as people get out of the cars.

"What does it mean?" John asked, referring to the burnt gingerbread. The doorbell rings and at the same time someone pounds on the front door knocker.

"Police!" Someone shouts from outside

"I'll go," Mrs. Hudson informed. She turns and hurries down the stairs as someone continues to knock on the door. Voices can be heard as she opens the door.

"Sherlock …" Donovan calls, not yet reaching the living room.

"Evening, Mrs Hudson," Lestrade greeted politely.

"We need to talk to you!" Donovan shouts up the stairs. John puts the gingerbread man back into the envelope and puts it on the table before heading out of the flat. Downstairs, Mrs Hudson sounds angry.

"Don't barge in like that!" Mrs. Hudson shouts at the unexpected guests. Feet can be heard trotting up the stairs. Calmly Sherlock turns around and picks up his scarf and loops it around his neck. John is blocking the stairs partway up.

"Have you got a warrant? Have you?" John questions, not too happy with what's going on. Lestrade comes up to him, not knowing that Sherlock has started to put on his coat and knowing full well what is about to happen.

"Leave it, John," Lestrade gently orders the ex-soldier, Mrs. Hudson complaining about manners in the background. Shortly afterwards Greg stands in front of Sherlock while one of two armed officers attaches handcuffs to his left wrist. "Sherlock Holmes, I'm arresting you on suspicion of abduction and kidnapping." John gestures towards Sherlock while looking at Greg as the officer pulls Sherlock's left hand behind his back in order to cuff his other wrist.

"He's not resisting," John comments.

"It's alright, John," Sherlock tries to smooth over.

"He's not resisting. No, it's not alright. This is ridiculous," John complains.

"Get him downstairs now," Lestrade orders. The officer spins Sherlock around and marches him out of the door. Mrs Hudson stands nearby almost in tears.

"You know you don't have to do …" John informs Greg.

"Don't try to interfere, or I shall arrest you too," Lestrade warns. He turns and leaves the room. John turns to Sally who is standing near the door.

"You done?" John growls out.

"Oh, I said it," she says looking smug at the doctor. "First time we met."

"Don't bother," John warns, not in the mood to deal with her.

"'Solving crimes won't be enough. One day he'll cross the line.' Now, ask yourself: what sort of man would kidnap those kids just so he can impress us all by finding them?" Donovan asked, ignoring John's warning. Mrs Hudson gasps just when the Chief Superintendent walks in.

"Donovan," the chief spoke.

"Sir," she said respectfully.

"Got our man?"

"Er, yes, sir."

"Looked a bit of a weirdo, if you ask me." John turns towards him. "Often are, these vigilante types." He had been looking around the living room but now turns and sees John staring at him. "What are you looking at?" Sally's eyes widen and she instantly lowers her head as if she knows what's coming and can't bear to look. John starts to move. A minute or two later, the Chief Superintendent walks out onto the street holding a handkerchief to his bleeding nose.

"Are you alright, sir?" One of the police officers asks. Nearby, Sherlock had been leaning against the side of a police car, facing it. Now John is slammed up against the car next to him, to his left. Sherlock looks across to him with an amused expression on his face.

"Joining me?" Sherlock muses.

"Yeah. Apparently it's against the law to chin the Chief Superintendent," John informs, a small laugh in his voice. Behind them, a couple of armed officers unlock the cuff on Sherlock's right hand and transfer it to John's right wrist, chaining the boys together. Sherlock looks over his shoulder, watching what the officers are doing and where they're standing.

"Hmm. Bit awkward, this."

"Huh. No-one to bail us."

"I was thinking more about our imminent and daring escape." He looks down at the radio lying on the dashboard of the car they're leaning against. The radio squeals as the dispatcher speaks.

"All units to two-seven," the radio dispatcher calls. John looks round at Sherlock's previous statement.

"What?" John asked

"All units to two …" Rapidly Sherlock reaches through the open window of the car with his free hand and presses down on the Talk button. Instantly the officer behind the boys doubles over in pain and grabs at his earpiece when a high-pitched squeal of feedback rips through it. Sherlock reaches behind him and pulls the officer's pistol free, instantly raising it. Because it's in his left hand, John's shackled right hand is yanked upwards as well and he gasps in surprise at the rapid turn of events. Sherlock calls out as he aims the pistol towards the nearest officers.

"Ladies and gentlemen, will you all please get on your knees?" Nearby, Greg's whole body language says, 'Oh, FFS ...' When nobody reacts very quickly, Sherlock raises the gun skywards and fires it twice. "NOW would be good!" He lowers it and points it at the police again.

"Do as he says!" Lestrade orders. He gestures everybody downwards and all the police start to kneel. The boys start to back away.

"Just-just so you're aware, the gun is his idea. I'm just a ... you know …" John was thinking of a good word. Sherlock transfers the pistol to his right hand and promptly aims it at John's head.

"... my hostage." Sherlock finishes as John gasps.

"Hostage! Yes, that works – that works," John agrees, going along with it. They continue backing away from the kneeling police. Behind them and probably unnoticed in all the excitement, a piece of artistic graffiti has been sprayed on the wall of the house on the street corner. In red paint, huge letters spelling out 'IOU' are at least three feet high and are surrounded by an elaborate dark set of angel's wings. The boys begin to back carefully around the corner. "So what now?"

"Doing what Moriarty wants – I'm becoming a fugitive. Run." He turns and begins to race off down the road, dragging John with him. Back at the police cars, Greg buries his head in his hands. The Chief Superintendent gets to his feet and turns to him.

"Get after him, Lestrade!" The chief shouts. Greg glares furiously at Sally as she begins to head in the direction the boys have gone. Greg is a lot slower in getting moving. Around the corner as the boys run along side by side. Suddenly a dark figure drops in front of them, making them stop. The figure ran towards them, slicing the chain between the two men before stopping behind them. The men turned to the figure and stared. They noticed that the person had metal claw like gloves on their hand.

"Why are you two still standing around?" The figure asked in a familiar voice.

"Leotie?" John asked. She turned and the only thing they could see were her bright cat eyes.

"Go," she ordered. "I'll hold them off." She then turned to where the boys had come from and crouched. The moment Donovan rounded the corner Leotie raced forward, sprinting like a cat, and tackled the Sergeant with a hiss. Sherlock grabbed John's hand and began running again with the doctor being dragged behind him.

"Now people will definitely talk," John complained. Sirens are approaching at the junction ahead of them. Sherlock swerves to his left and drops the pistol in the process. It clatters to the ground. "The gun!"

"Leave it!" He shoves John down a side alley as the police car races straight across the junction. They run down the alleyway and reach high railings blocking their way. Sherlock, with his customary flair, leaps up onto the top of a dustbin and vaults straight over the top of the railings. John, being an adorable short-arse and also not as close to the dustbin, is left behind; his right hand is dragged upwards and his face almost smashes against the railings as Sherlock drops to the other side.

"Sherlock, wait!" He reaches through the railings with his free hand and grabs Sherlock's coat, dragging him closer and glaring into his face. "We're going to need to coordinate, like say letting go of my hand." Sherlock quickly scans all around them.

"Go to your right."

"Huh?"

SHJWSHJWSHJWSHJWSHJWSHJW

John had left the lab, leaving Sherlock deep in thought while tossing the blue ball around. He had been going over his plan since John left. He knew what was coming, Sherlock always knew. The cat walks into the lab and stares at the detective until he stops his movements and stares back at her. Sherlock found it hard to deduce her today but he supposes that she purposely did that. She pads closer to him and sits on the floor in front of him. Neither said a word but the detective knew that she wanted to tell him something.

"You're in love with Doctor John Watson," She said bluntly. Sherlock opened his mouth in an attempt to give an overly long explanation about how sentiment is weakness but she cut him off with her words and glare. "Don't be a smartarse." Sherlock pouted and turned his gaze away from her. "I know what's about to happen, little cub. You're going to end up faking your own death, calling John and having him watch as you give him a fake suicide speech. Then you will jump. I know you will fake your own death but how, I do not know. Only your brother and a handful of other people will know about the fake death but John, Mrs. Hudson, DI Greg Lestrade, and pretty much everyone else won't know it's a fake. Then you will be gone, taking down all of Moriarty's underground men for the next couple years. During the time you are gone, John will have tried to move on. By the time you come back and try to meet up with him-"

"How do you know all of this?" Sherlock asked. There was a crack of skin slapping skin before Sherlock instinctively cupped one of his cheeks, which was already slightly turning red. He was silently glad she didn't have her metal claws on.

"I've seen it. Now don't interrupt again. We don't have much time left before he texts you back." Sherlock opened his mouth again to speak but decided it was better to let her talk and gather more information from her than to have himself talk and get slapped again. "When you meet up with John again, after taking Moriarty's men down, you will have interrupted his proposal to the woman he had found during the time you were away. That woman, I don't trust her. I know I could stop John from ever meeting her or ever considering proposing to her but it is not my place to decide. It is your's," she said, finishing her rant.

"Why me?" Sherlock asked, intrigued.

"You are in love with him, detective. A cat has absolute emotional honesty. Human beings, for one reason or another, may hide their feelings. Be a cat and just admit it, even if it is just to me. If you want me to stop him from meeting her, I will."

"You're an actual cat, aren't you?" She nodded. "Then how are you human."

"I'm from another dimension. Now answer me." Sherlock thought for a moment before opening his mouth to answer.

SHJWSHJWSHJWSHJWSHJWSHJW

John and Leotie were standing in the street, staring at Sherlock as he gave his verbal note. John had the phone to his ear while Leotie listened in with her heightened hearing. Sherlock was about to toss his phone to the side when he changed his mind and brought it back to his ear.

"Take care of John for me, Leotie," Sherlock said. She smiled and nodded before taking the phone from John and holding the microphone side to her mouth so he could hear her.

"I'll make sure to keep him in trouble."

"Good girl."

"Sherlock," she interrupted just as he was about to toss the phone again. "Insults are the last resort of insecure people with a crumbling position trying to appear confident. You don't have to disrespect and insult others to hold your ground. If you do, that just shows how shaky your own position is." She knew that the sayings would come in handy for him while he was away, even if she didn't know why. She saw him smile at the help before he tossed the phone and jumped. John ran forward and was knocked over by a biker before Leotie followed after to help John up. She stood behind and watched John fret over his friend's body, trying not to feel guilty over the fact that she is deceiving the good doctor.

She finally pulled him away as the body of their friend was placed on a stretcher and taken away. She let John hold her for a while before she finally dragged him to the flat and laid him to rest for a while until the day that they, along with Mrs. Hudson, visited Sherlock's grave. As the cat stayed quiet she watched the landlady get emotional and return to the cab while the doctor talked, ignoring Leotie's presence completely.

"Um. Hm. You… you told me once that you weren't a hero. Um. There were times that I didn't even think you were human. But let me tell you this, you were the best man and the most human…. human being that I have ever known, and no one will ever convince me that you told me a lie. And so… there. I was so alone and I owe you so much. Please, there's just one more thing. One more thing. One more miracle, Sherlock, for me. Don't be… dead. Would you do that, just for me? Just stop it, stop this…" Leotie, depressed by his words, couldn't hold back her knowledge any longer from him but also knew that she couldn't tell him everything. So she started with placing a hand on John's shoulder.

"John?" He turned to face her. "He's alive, you know."

"I know. The whole 'he'll still be with me if I think about him or keep him close to my heart'. I know that, Leo-"

"That isn't what I mean, John. Give it a couple of years and Sherlock will be back with us," Leotie explained. John shook his head, not truly believing her words, and walks away towards the cab and Mrs. Hudson. Leotie shakes her head and follows him for a bit before stopping next to a tree. She waited for John to leave earshot before she spins back to look at Sherlock's gravestone. "Better take down Moriarty's men quickly, detective. I don't know what a depressed doctor looks or acts like but I'm sure I would rather not be exposed to it for a long period of time." She then turns back to the cab and races to catch up with the other two, not needing to look back to know that Sherlock finally came out from behind the tree to look out at his friends.


	4. Chapter 3: The Cat and the Doctor gets the Kitten

Within the first month that Sherlock was "dead" Mycroft had given her a phone and Sherlock's coat in exchange for giving over information on any changes the army doctor goes through during his younger brother's absence. Sherlock apparently found out about her new phone, Mycroft refuses to admit any involvement in that little occurrence, and began to text her weekly status reports about his survival, how well he is doing with Moriarty's shadow, and his estimated time of coming home based on the next group he was going after. She would never text him first for fear of getting him into trouble with whoever he might be working with at that particular time and has resigned herself to waiting for his texts first before updating him on what's been going on at the home front. She had noticed that Sherlock responded more when she updated him about John more than anyone else she would update about. She found it adorable in her old, wise cat eyes. Speaking of texts, a ping was heard from Leotie's phone.

Still alive. Yes I've been eating and sleeping. ETA: One year and five months.

-SH

She waited for about a minute before Sherlock sent another text.

How is my John?

-SH

Leotie chuckled at her cub's excitement to know how her other cub is doing, even if it is still early to tell whether or not the doctor will be okay again.

I still see him grieving, even if he is good at acting as though he isn't. Many of the females he goes out with seem to see through his grief as well. There is no sight of the woman John is supposed to meet yet. Then again, it is still early.

-Leotie

SHJWSHJWSHJWSHJWSHJWSHJW

It wasn't as easy as she originally thought, Leotie decided one day near the end of the first year of Sherlock's "death", to keep Mary Morstan away from John Watson. Leotie didn't like her to begin with, having seen her in the show that Stacy was watching, but now the female two legged has basically thrown herself into their lives. It all started with bumping into her on the streets, that's when the cat memorized her smell; then Leotie smelled her at John's clinic during one of her daily meetups, this was when she told John to watch his back with any of the new nurses; John then brought the two legged woman home to 221B(She had convinced John not to move away from their home), this was when she told John that she doesn't trust this particular female; and, finally, the woman would come back over and over to figure out why John broke up with her after the first date. Leotie was thankful that she only had to threaten the woman once, having found out that she was a trained killer, before she finally just stopped trying to come around to Baker Street.

Now that she didn't have to worry about Mary, Leotie could focus more on John and how to make him realize that he was, and probably still is, in love with Sherlock. However, the cat found it hard to figure out how to do this. She couldn't use any cat methods, he is human and humans have more difficulties showing their emotions; and she couldn't use human methods, that would require Sherlock to be present and that is impossible at the moment. That just means she will have to go with the only other thing she is good at. Wisdom. The only remaining question was how to word it.

John was sitting in his chair reading the newspaper and drinking tea while Leotie was curled up on the couch staring at John. She could tell he was good at acting because he certainly looks like he is reading the newspaper. To bad he hasn't turned the page for the last hour and a half. The cat took a deep breath, figuring this was as good a time as any, and opened her mouth to start the conversation when she was interrupted by John's phone buzzing. She closed her mouth as the doctor read the text. He looked confused for a moment before turning his gaze onto a curious Leotie.

"Greg wants us at the Yard," John informs with confusion as he gets up and grabs his coat, the cat following close behind.

"Does DI Greg Lestrade tell in detail why we must go over there? We don't really possess the observations like Sherlock. I might have correct feelings but I am unable to give the details needed to obtain the criminal," Leotie said, stuck on her wisdom mode momentarily. She then grabs her coat from the hook as John starts to head to the doorway of the flat.

"I don't think it's about a case," John said as they made their way towards the road. "He didn't specify but he knows that we aren't like-" John had troubles saying his name so Leotie merely placed her hand on his shoulder in understanding before hailing a taxi. They soon made it to the yard where Greg met them outside and began explaining the situation to them. He talked about how he found a boy, maybe twelve or thirteen years old, in the same alley as Leotie, how he had troubles walking, and how the boy kept calling everyone two leggeds. Greg lead the two to the interrogation room, the same one that Leotie was in the first time she came here. The child was curled up in the farthest corner from the door. From what Leotie could see and smell, he was definitely a cat. For this life, he is a toyger breed house cat. In this two legged form of his, he has orange, almost red, hair with black highlights that made it look like stripes in his hair and he wore a simple red t-shirt and khaki pants with socks and sneakers.

"Open the door," Leotie whispers as she walks over to the door to go through. No one really noticed how the boy's twitched ever so slightly as the sound of Leotie's voice.

"Hold up!" Greg stops, pushing the button anyway. "Is he-"

"He is," she answers before going into the room. She pads halfway across the room and seats herself like a cat while facing the boy. She waits for him to look up before giving him a soft smile. "Hello cub." His eyes widen at what she calls him. "There is no reason to be afraid here, kitten. I have trusted friends here. Do you understand?" He nods his head slowly, indicating that he could understand the language she was using. "Good. My name is Leotie." The boy gasps as he straightens himself and she smiles, knowing that the boy knows exactly who she is. "I have a two legged law man who is a friend of mine named DI Greg Lestrade and a two legged healer friend named John Watson. They are standing behind the mirror watching us." The boy turns his robin's egg blue eyes to the glass, examining the two men. "I also have another friend, a consulting detective, named Sherlock Holmes but he is currently not with us at the moment. What is your name and what life are you in, cub?" The boy returned his gaze to the female human-cat out of respect and to answer her.

"M-My name is Yiska, your highness, and this is my first life," the boy answers slowly, afraid.

"Your highness?!" John and Greg question together from behind the glass. Yiska gave the two men a questioning look before Leotie leaned over to the boy to whisper something to him. He nods in understanding as Leotie backs away. She stands and holds her hand out for the boy to take, which he does, and helps him to stand up on his wobbly limbs.

"Yiska will be staying with us, John," she informed the doctor. "I will be teaching him all he will need to know while staying here." She then helps him walk out of the interrogation room and back to Baker Street while John followed along and tried to ask about the 'Your Highness' comment from the cat boy earlier, which she skillfully maneuvered away from by way of talking about how the basement will become Yiska's new room.

SHJWSHJWSHJWSHJWSHJWSHJW

"Oh, hello dears," Mrs. Hudson greeted as Leotie, John, and Yiska returned home from exploring London.

"Good evening, Lady Hudson," Yiska greeted as Leotie and John gave the older woman a hug. "How was your day?"

"Oh, absolutely terrible, dear. My hip's been bothering me more than usual, but thanks for asking," she replied. Yiska looked sad but soon brightened up and turned to Leotie, a hopeful look on his face as he bounces on his toes. She chuckles and nods before he races up the stairs.

"Yiska and I will be down shortly, Mrs. Hudson," the cat informed before chasing after the kitten. John just shakes his head and informs Mrs. Hudson that Yiska was fascinated by a bakery they passed by while hey were out and that now he wants to try baking at the flat. Mrs. Hudson found the thought adorable. The two jumped when they heard the cat and the kitten scream from above them, making the doctor take action and take the stairs two at a time. The landlady laughed when she heard John scream at them next.

"How the did you get eggs on the ceiling?!"

SHJWSHJWSHJWSHJWSHJWSHJW

Six months before Sherlock's return

John tiredly entered the flat and flopped onto the couch face down with a solid fwoop before shouting curses into the cushion. The doctor had just gotten back from another failed date. He wasn't sure how many that made it since Sherlock's fall, John stopped counting somewhere in the twenties. Each date said that he was still in grieving over the loss of his last major love, which Leotie told him they were assuming it was Sherlock even if they never said a specific gender.

The cat, who was baking in the kitchen with the cub, came into the kitchen doorway to observe the doctor. Her front was covered in flour from their latest baking creation and she had a small smudge of dark batter streaked across her left cheek. She knew what was bothering John and she remembered the conversation she still needed to have with the doctor. She also remembered that her last text session with Sherlock said that he might be returning within months now.

"Cub, finish up cleaning and please make some tea," Leotie ordered Yiska before walking over to sit on the floor next to the couch.

"Yes, my lady," Yiska said as the sink's water began to run and the clamor of dishes could be heard. John turned his head from the cushion and stared at the cat turned human. She gave a sad but sweet smile to the depressed doctor.

"Why does everyone think I was in a relationship other than friendship with Sherlock?" John asked, making Leotie laugh. "You thought we were together too, didn't you?" John was annoyed now but that faded slightly when she shook her head.

"No, I knew you two weren't a couple yet." John groaned at her words, annoyed that she too could see them together. He was about to shout that he's not gay when she continued talking. "However I could still see you two drift closer when you both were calm. In fact, I have been wanting to talk to you about this. All those girls you go on dates with, you never loved them. Sure you might not be gay, but you two leggeds have other words that could be used to describe the different types of love. Besides, everyone has their exceptions. Tell me, doctor, why did you go running to Sherlock's aid, even if you were already on a date? He can fend for himself, he survived without you before even though he didn't really take good care of himself. So why do you run to him, John?" Leotie waited a beat or two before getting up and going to the kitchen to help Yiska, who was trying to lick the plates clean after getting frustrated with the sink. John stayed on the couch and thought over her words thoroughly. He then buried his head in the pillow and began cursing.

"Why is he saying the mean words that the two leggeds usually say with mad?" Yiska whispered to Leotie as he continued to stare at the doctor from behind the door frame. The cat finished placing the tea cups and kettle onto a tray as she turns to look in the doctor's direction.

"He will get better when the detective returns," Leotie whispered before picking the tray up and moving it to the coffee table, Yiska padding close to her heels. "Tea is ready, cub," Leotie called to the doctor, who refused to move and continued to mutter into the pillow.

"How long until he returns?" Yiska asked, already getting worried about the doctor.

"Mere months, little cub," Leotie informed, pouring the steaming tea into the cups. Yiska and Leotie quietly drank the burning beverage while the cub just continued to stare at the doctor with an increasingly worried look.

"I don't think he's breathing, ma'am."


	5. Chapter 4: Cat and Kitten Stops the Doctor's punch

The day started off calm. It was warm but not too warm, a nice and soft breeze ruffled the trees from time to time. Normally, the kitten and the cat would go out and spend the day outside while the doctor worked but John was not scheduled to come into the office until tomorrow. This allowed him to spend a relaxing day with Leotie and Yiska while Mrs. Hudson went out with one of her old friends for the day. Leotie was sitting on the couch texting a certain consulting detective while Yiska was falling asleep with his head laying on her lap, a soft breeze slightly moving his hair from the open windows. John had just gotten up from his chair to make the three of them some tea in the kitchen. The doctor had cried all over again, feeling the pain of his best friend's death all over again after realizing his true feelings. The doctor paced around the kitchen and filled the kettle before placing it on the stove to heat. Leotie could hear the light tinkle of glass as John placed three cups onto a tray with their saucers. The cat began to smirk as she heard him lightly step over to the fridge, thoroughly waking up the cub with her mood change. He looked up at her from his position on her lap, curiosity shining in his robin eggs eyes. They could heard the fridge open before it closed a beat later with John dropping his head on the door with a soft thud.

"Hands…" the doctor whispered. Yiska stared at the kitchen entrance with confusion written all over her features. "There are two pairs of hands in the fridge." John straightens up before storming over the kitchen entrance, showing Yiska the doctor's irritation. John glared at Leotie, who was reading her phone and smirking. Leotie, John knew, was the only one who would know where to get body parts and willingly get them for whatever reason other than Sherlock. "Leo…" John growled out, anger already bubbling like the water in the forgotten kettle.

"Yes, cub?" Leotie asked sweetly, her eyes twinkling with mischief and humor. She quickly tapped in a text before sending it and looking up to the ex-soldier, her smirk only growing when she sees his face slowly turning red with anger and his hands on his hips as if he was in a position to scold her.

"Why are their two pairs of hands in the fridge?" He asked through gritted teeth, making it sound more like a growl. Leotie looked to Yiska, who was very interested in the conversation now, and lightly tapped his shoulder for him to get up so that she could stan. The kitten sat up, half of his hair standing up in a weird angle, and watched as she placed her phone in her back pocket before walking over to where the coats were hanging by the door.

"I'm just saving them for a friend," she stated simply, her smirk turning into a genuine smile when she thought of her other cub. She threw her coat on before snatching Sherlock's coat as well. "I'm going to be out for the rest of the day, cubs. I'll meet you at Angelo's for dinner tonight and I'm bringing a friend." She then raced out of the flat with John shouting his confusion after her.

"Where are you going with his coat?!" The two boys were left in confused silence, Yiska tilting his head at the doctor while asking a silent question. Leotie bundled the coat with care close to her body as she raced down the sidewalk, then turned into an alley where she gracefully swung onto a fire escape and climbed to the top. There she raced across the roof, cool breeze rushing through her hair and causing it to trace her eyes. She spotted a sturdy but thin branch that was twice her height on the floor of the roof, which she snatched up with great ease and wedged it at the lip of the roof causing her to vault over a particularly large alley gape. She landed on the next roof with the ease and grace of the feline that she is. It did not take her much jumping and rolling after that to reach Mycroft's building, where she easily snuck into the vents from the outside. She took several twists inside the metal tunnels, following her nose, in search of the correct room.

"No it isn't. Now where is it?" She heard the one and only consulting detective ask the government. Leotie smirked, knowing exactly what the detective was asking. The cat decided that now would be an excellent time to drop in on the conversation as a playful smirk begins to form across her lips. She kicked open the vent, forcing Mycroft to move out of the way, before she just jumped down to land in a cat like crouch between the two brothers. "Hello Leotie," Sherlock greets, the corner of his lips twitching into a smile for a split second.

"Greeting, cub. Here you go," Leotie greets, tossing his coat as she rises to her feet with ease. The detective flawlessly catches the cloth and swings it over his shoulder in one swift motion. "John is going to be furious when he first sees you, Sherlock. You forced him to bury another friend, even if it was a fake death. It broke him, cub." Sherlock turned away from the mirror that he was preening himself in to give her a raised eyebrow. "I merely give you this warning so that his reaction will not surprise you." Sherlock nods in understanding before leaving Mycroft's office with Leotie, neither bothering to bid any farewells to the government man as they left the building at a swift pace. The detective and cat strode in silence as Leotie led the way to Angelo's. She noticed that her cub wished to ask something on his mind but waited until Sherlock was ready to ask.

"Do you know anyone Ahote?" Leotie, in an unseeable flash, was suddenly stopped and turned to Sherlock with her eyes wide and filled with multiple emotions at once. Hope, fear, love, surprise, and worry all flashed through form what Sherlock could see. "He helped me escape," Sherlock explained, allowing her to relax the fear raging inside of her and continue the walk to John. "Who is he?"

"My mate," she answers in a slightly wistful voice as she thinks about him before she returned to normal. "That restless tabby cat always seems to get himself into trouble," Leotie states with a laugh in her voice. "He is also my protector, has been since forever." Sherlock tried to get more information out of her but she refused until they reached their destination. When the cat could see the luminescent letters of the restaurant she quickened her pace, reaching the doors before the detective observe what she planned to do. Waving to Angelo, she raced to sit in her usual seat, which is at Sherlock's usual table. She sat facing the window, Yiska across from her with his hair neatly combed and John to her left, who combed the kitten's hair. This left one seat, across from John, for Sherlock to take when he arrives. Leotie made eye contact with Yiska, sending out a silent message, before each grabbed a hold of one of John's wrist and surprising the poor doctor.

"What are you doing?" John asked cautiously, confused by the two's sudden actions. Sherlock finally entered the restaurant, gaining the attention of Angelo first.

"Sherlock!" The owner bellowed, making John stiffen in his seat. Yiska watched the exchange between the detective and the owner carefully, noticing the coat that Leotie had taken earlier that day was draped over his slender shoulders, while Leotie intensely watched John, trying to gage his reaction to the detective's appearance. Soon, Sherlock joined them at their table, causing Yiska to growl at the unknown man, which Leotie fixed with a stern look that caused him to look down at the table in embarrassment. Sherlock didn't pay attention to the two, only to his shocked and still doctor. Leotie returned her attention to John and dived into his emotions, trying to determine which emotion floating around him was more dominant. Shock, anger, love, relief, frustration, sadness, hope. It was all so strong coming from him, yet she could feel similar things in Sherlock as well.

"Hello John," Sherlock greets quietly, giving a small and hopeful smile. John just stares at him for a moment longer, tears beginning to brim in his eyes again. He hadn't cried since he realized Leotie was right about his feelings for Sherlock. The doctor tries to clumsily stand up from the table s he drops his head to hide the tears but is stopped by Yiska and Leotie tightening their grip on his wrists.

"John, sit," Leotie commanded. The ex-soldier twitched, wanting to defy her command but something in him forced him to sit back in his chair with a thud. Sherlock took note of Yiska's shocked expression and Leotie's skeptically one. "This will be a nice dinner and then we will go back to the flat and calmly talk about the past two years." The doctor and detective fidgeted, feeling as though something is forcing them to obey, before nodding.

"Wow," Yiska whispered. "I thought that only worked with our kin." Leotie hummed in agreement, hesitantly releasing John with Yiska following suit after they were sure John wouldn't defy the command. This exchange finally turned Sherlock's attention to the kitten, who gave the detective a raised eyebrow.

"Who is this?" The detective asked. Leotie gave him a look that easily read 'You tell me', making him roll his eyes. "A kid, maybe fifteen or so by the looks of it. He seems to know you two well, he's been living with you two based on how well he seems to know Leotie. Also, according to his statement, he is a cat from your dimension."

"This two legged is amazing, M'Lady," Yiska states. Sherlock quickly stored this information away so that he could ask Leotie about it later. John gave Sherlock a skeptical look as Leotie nodded and got up to order them all food from Angelo.

"You don't actually believe in different dimensions, do you?" John asked in disbelief. It really did surprise John since Sherlock didn't believe the earth went around the sun.

"Normally, no. However I cannot deny the facts in front of me. Besides, Leotie is planning to tell us when she returns," Sherlock countered before taking John's hand, forcing the doctor to stare at their connecting hands. "During the past two years, I was constantly and irritatingly aware of your absence." John looked up at Sherlock with confusion and irritation before understanding ran through his mind and a smile formed on his face ever so slowly.

"I missed you too, you git," John playfully grumbles out, turning his hand over and wrapping his own fingers around the thin hand over his. The doctor and detective just stared at each other, completely forgetting that Yiska was still at the table being an awkward and curious third wheel. Their gaze and hands stayed connected until Leotie came back with a knowing smirk on her face.

"I see that you two have become close once more," Leotie commented, cause a small blush to form on both of their cheeks. "I told you he would be better when the detective returned," she told Yiska, who tried to hide a chuckle from the other two.

"Wait, you knew?!" John screeched, anger soon returning. "And you didn't tell me?"

"I did tell you, cub. Think about what I said the first time we went to Sherlock's headstone, or even why I brought up that one conversation about half a year ago. Or perhaps you wish to remember the present I am currently storing in the fridge?" Leotie explained. John just sat back before turning to Sherlock with a shocked expression plastered on the doctor's face.

"You told her you were alive?" John asked him, a hurt look in his eyes.

"No, he didn't. I knew what was going to happen before Sherlock did. How did you think I knew about the criminals surrounding the flat at the time?" Leotie counters. John just stares at her with shock. "Now," she says, changing the subject as their food came. "Do you recall the lab that Mycroft wanted us to look at before your death?" Leotie asked the detective, nibbling at her meat filled plate. Sherlock nodded, picking at his food but not eating it until John smacked Sherlock's hand with his fork and giving him a look that screamed 'Stop playing with your food and eat it'. "I have a feeling that the scientists there are the ones at fault for the portals. I also sense that many of my cubs are being captive there. Before you ask, John: Yes, I am a cat in another dimension, the same dimension as Yiska. Ahote is also from that dimension," she informs, turning to Sherlock.

"Ahote?" John asked. "I remember you mentioning him. You met him?" John asked Sherlock, fully interested in the adventures that Sherlock had gone on without him.

"He helped me escape a rough situation," Sherlock said shrugging slightly, more interested in the information about the lab and keeping John from hearing about the times he was torchered. Leotie then told of her dimension, how their reincarnation works, her adventures with Ahote, and how she would have to save his tail on multiple occasions. "Pirates?" Sherlock asked as she described the time she had to rescue Ahote from the Captain's parrot, who was trying to get the tabby cat to walk the plank. Leotie laughed at how Sherlock's eyes shown at the thought of a true pirate story and at how he didn't even notice the doctor's love sick look. After a few more stories, several involving her having to tackle her love out of the way of various animals, she began to talk about the feud between the cats and dogs, how she has been working hard to create peace, and how she needs Ahote and an heir before this life ends for the both of them. "Can't you just choose a different mate if you need an heir so desperately?" Sherlock offered.

"Do you wish to make children with someone you do not love?" She quipped back in a harsh tone, eyeing him and how his eyes flicker to John for the briefest of moments without the doctor noticing. "Exactly. Besides, Ahote and I have been together since my first life and how you think creating an heir happens is not how it works for us cats." She refused go into full detail as to what occurs when creating an heir.

"And you found each other every time?" Yiska asked, fascinated. She nodded With a soft smile. The conversation and meal ended soon after, the kitten yawning from all the excitement of the day, and John and Leotie payed before the quartet left the restaurant to go to the flat. About half way home Yiska tripped and nearly fell face first had the doctor and the cat not grabbed his arms to prevent the full fall. Leotie carried most of the kitten's weight the rest of the way home as she draped his arm over her shoulders, much to the doctor's displeasure. Sherlock, being the only one without anything or anyone in his arms, opened the door for all of them and unintentionally grabbing the landlady's attention from her own flat. Before the doctor, cat, and kitten could enter through the doorway, they heard Mrs. Hudson scream in surprise before she began to cry happy tears and hug the detective. John and Leotie did their best to sneak passed the two before Leotie separated from John to set Yiska in his bed, causing the doctor step up the stairs to tiredly start making tea for them. After the landlady had calmed enough she allowed Sherlock to follow his John up the stairs for the talk while she waited for the cat. Leotie soon returned from the kitten's room with the intention to begin a conversation with Mrs. Hudson while her cubs talked above them. They could even hear the rapid footsteps of Sherlock following John around for the much needed talk.

"Oh! He's really back!" Mrs. Hudson gushed, causing a sweet smile to appear on Leotie's face. The cat was about to reply when they heard a thud from above, making both women look at the ceiling above them at the same time.

"You punched me!" Sherlock shouts, causing the two women to laugh. Mrs. Hudson offered to go up to clean any of the blood with Leotie following suit, when the cat suddenly gasped in pain and collapsed to the ground while scaring the landlady. The cat started convulsing where she was curled up, causing Mrs. Hudson to shout for the boys upstairs. The doctor calmly walked down the stairs after tossing Sherlock a towel to clean his nose until her shouts became more frantic, causing Sherlock to race with John down the stairs. When they reached the bottom, they saw Mrs. Hudson leaning over the bloody mess that had become two men stared for a moment, observing as slashes appeared on her body and a glowing crown like tattoo swirled on her forehead. John was about to rush to her to stop the bleeding but stopped when Yiska suddenly appeared on all fours, his eyes cat like and teeth bared, while hovering over Leotie in a protective position, causing Mrs. Hudson to back up in fear. Sherlock noticed how Yiska's ears had become more pointed than before, how his nails had become more crawl like, and how he had a glowing paw print on his forehead. Leotie's shaking slowly stopped before she weakly turned to the kitten and spoke to him in a language that no human had ever heard before. Yet, John and Sherlock were surprised when they realized they could understand every word she spoke in the strange tongue.

"Go, kitten. Allow the two leggeds to approach me," Leotie quietly speaks. Yiska looks to her and nods before returning to his room, still walking on all fours while his glowing paw print slowly faded. "Come forth doctor and detective." John raced over first, asking for water and a cloth from Mrs. Hudson to clean up the wounds, before Sherlock followed his doctor.

"Leotie, what just happened?" John asked as Sherlock kneeled behind him to observe. Mrs. Hudson soon returned with a bowl of warm water and a clean white rag. John began to clean the blood on the cat as she hissed in pain while the white cloth slowly turned pink, red, and then crimson.

"Ahote has been captured by the most likely wish to find the remainder of us who have been hiding in this dimension," she explained in a pained and breathless voice as she returned to the human language.

"He doesn't have the ability to find them," Sherlock states, seeing the energy she is using to stay awake. "You do."

"Correct, cub. I have the ability to find them but Ahote has the ability to find me," she informs. "That is how we have always found each other, how he protects me without me knowing. However we have not met yet in this life, which is not good." She wanted to explain more, tell them more, but the loss of blood was affecting her and her eyes were growing heavy. Before she could say anything else, her eye lids won out and she was then drowned in darkness.


	6. Chapter 5: The Cat, the Tabby, the Lab, Oh My!

Everything was bright in the dark void. She was floating and falling, awake and asleep, the silence raged in her ears yet she was completely at peace. She knew she was unconscious, maybe even dreaming so she just allowed herself to float there and think of the danger her love was in currently in. That is, until she saw another being, this one achingly familiar, in the distance. A smile quickly crept onto her mouth as she began to sprint towards the figure, who had his back to her. She could see black ruffled hair above the fair skin that was the neck. She noted how loose the green t-shirt hung off of his lean figure and how his jeans seemed to fit him just right. She knew that, if he was facing her, she would get lost in his golden amber eyes again.

"Ahote!" Leotie shouts with glee as tackles his back. He seemed to have been expecting her and her enthusiastic greeting because he didn't fall over and only laughed with her. She got off of his back so he could turn to her. For a moment, they only grinned at each other, then they gave each other a tight embrace that they never wanted to be released from. "I've missed you," she mumbles into his shoulder.

"And I, you, my flower," he whispers into her hair. They didn't want to release each other but knew that they needed to. They had much to discuss before they woke up.

SHJWSHJWSHJWSHJWSHJWSHJW

Leotie's unconscious form had stayed deadly still for the past three days on the sanitary hospital bed, worrying the doctor and the kitten. The detective, however, refused to show just how worried for her well being he actually was. Yiska stood in as her guard when the other two were away on cases or had to return home to rest, even when the nurses told him that he had to go home he stayed by her sleeping form. Her wounds had healed quickly the night of the incident, not even leaving a scar to be seen. Every evening Leotie would fidget a bit, showing that she might wake up, only to stay asleep and cause the kitten to whimper with sadness, his bottom lip slightly sticking out. It wasn't until the early morning on the fourth day that the kitten slowly woke to soft singing and his hair being gently petted as he laid on his crossed arms. He sighed peacefully at the warm feeling only to tiredly pout when the singing was replaced with a light chuckle.

"Good morning Kitten," the voice greets, allowing warmth to run through Yiska's sleepy body.

"Good morning, your highness," he sighs absently, wanting to sleep for a bit longer. His eyes felt as though they nearly popped out of his skull with how fast his eyes flew open to stare at the conscious cat calmly laying in the hospital bed. "Lady Leotie!" Yiska shouts, jumping to his feet with glee and causing Leotie to laugh at his excitement. "You're awake! The medical two legged and the riddle solving two legged will want to know!" Yiska then dashed away to snatch Leotie's phone that was on a pile of clothes, which was on a chair that was up against the wall next to the cool grey door. Once he retrieved the device, he raced back to sit next to the cat on her bed and lean on her with a purr. She watched as he tapped onto one of the three contacts in the device and started typing up random letters.

N; awehrfnprqweurbqp wenfalsi

"Kitten?" Leotie questioned with curiosity after he sent the message. He turned to look at her, a sound of question escaping him as he did so. "Did you and the two leggeds create a secret code while I was asleep?" He shook his head 'no', confused by her question. "Do you perhaps not know how to write in the two legged's language than?" Yiska looked at the phone that was now in his lap and Leotie giggled at the kitten. "It's alright, kitten. I didn't truly learn the two legged's language until my third life," she informs, placing an arm around his shoulder. He looks up at her with surprise and awe. "In fact, I distinctly remember being furious with Ahote for learning their written language in our second life." This causes Yiska to cover his mouth with his hands to try to prevent himself from laughing. "Go ahead and laugh," Leotie laughs out. "I do from time to time. Especially when I think about the time he got threatened by this one crazy bunny we met. The little fluff ball wanted to start a war against the two leggeds." This was the last straw. Yiska burst into tearful laughter, grabbing his sides as they began to hurt. After a full two minutes of laughter, Yiska was able to reel himself back in with panting breaths while he wiped his eyes.

"I haven't laughed this hard since the last time I saw Zorina," Yiska pants out, his smile turning sad. Leotie eyed him with a curious twinkle.

"Zorina? Who is this, kitten?" She asks, even though she already had her suspicions as to who she is.

"My playmate, ma'am. She was so much fun when we would meet up!" Yiska says, smiling at the memories. "Every time we would meet up it was unintentional. The first time we met, she ended up tackling me in a bush because she thought I was one of the birds that would bully her. Then, another time, I tackled her because I thought she was one of my brothers!" Yiska laughed at the memory while Leotie simply smiled. "I remember how I would purposely tell her bad jokes just to see her laugh. She had such a pretty laugh and her fur was so soft and she was so nice and sweet and I would follow her forever." Yiska didn't notice the loud purring he was producing when he talked of his childhood friend but Leotie did and a gave a small smile.

"You're in love with her," Leotie states, her smile growing with Yiska's blush. Before any more could be said, Sherlock and John entered the room with worried (Leotie could see through Sherlock's mask) faces. "Hello cubs," Leotie greets with a warm smile, allowing the detective to relax and the doctor to let out a sigh of relief while giving the kitten time to make the blush fade.

"Leo, what the bloody hell happened?" John asked, striding over to the bedridden girl, Sherlock closely following. "You were fine one second and the next, deep slashes appear all over your form and your talking in some language no one has ever heard of!"

"Calm yourself cub, I'll explain everything," she informs as she gestures to the chair next to her bed. Sherlock reaches the chair while he pulls John's sleeve with him and sits in the chair before pulling John, who was completely red now, onto his lap and wrapping his arms around the doctor's waist. Leotie gave them an amused look as they got comfortable together. "But first, do tell when this became a new development." Both, at the same time, gave her a look that growled out 'I haven't told him yet', which caused Leotie to chuckle at the situation. "Right. The language," she starts, her amused look not changing. "The language I spoke is the common tongue of the cats in my home dimension. Normally, two leggeds are unable to hear it but since we are not in our usual cat form, I guess the two leggeds can hear it."

"How could we understand what you were saying when Mrs. Hudson could not?" Sherlock asked, resting his chin lightly on John's shoulder. Leotie turned her gaze to her lap and thought, not quite sure of the answer herself.

"I think… And I'm not positive on this either, but I think I might have adopted both of you two before Sherlock jumped off the building. That could also explain why Ahote went after you, Sherlock, without attacking. Ahote, despite his childish nature, is very protective of me and will attack anyone that has my scent on them that isn't a cat. However, he helped you escape, meaning he trusts you. Yet that was the first time you two met, correct?" Sherlock nodded, following her line of thought as she spoke.

"He could tell you adopted me as one of your cats," Sherlock finishes.

"Yes. I believe that is the only reason Ahote did not attack you, the commands worked on you two back at Angelo's, and why you both were able to understand the cat tongue," Leotie explained.

"Are all of the cats able to do that command...thing?" Sherlock asked, not entirely sure what to call it himself.

"No," Leotie says shortly, reaching over to Yiska's lap and plucking her phone up to begin a new text. "Only the Queen of the Cats can use Command." The cat hit send just as the doctor gasped in understanding.

"That's why Yiska called you 'Your Highness' when we first met him!" John exclaims as Sherlock remembers what the kitten had called her back at the restaurant. "You are the Queen of the Cats!" Leotie nodded.

"And Ahote is your knight and king," Sherlock continues, receiving another nod just as a nurse enters the room.

"Good morning, everyone," the nurse greets cheerfully, her olive skin wrinkling at her eyes. Her long black hair was tied up into a neat bun, making her look beautiful if it weren't for the ten pounds of makeup on her face. "How are we feeling today, Ms. Leotie?" The nurse, Emma according to her name tag, all but skips to the side of her bed while trying to push Yiska, who started growling, off. "Sorry, honey. You can't be up on the bed."

"Leave him be," Leotie growled out, surprising the nurse enough to back off a couple steps. Yiska continued to glare at the nurse as he curled up on Leotie's lap the best he could. "As for your question, miss: I am fine. In fact, you can just take this IV out of my arm, bring me my clothes, and I can leave now."

"Oh, I don't think that will be a good idea-"

"Do as she says," a male voice orders from the door, turning all of their attentions at the same time. There in the doorway stood Mycroft, swinging his umbrella.

"Why are you here, Mycroft?!" Sherlock shouts back, anger boiling in him as he brings John closer to him by hugging the good doctor.

"I invited him, which I must say you certainly came by quickly," Leotie informed as she raised an eyebrow at the government man.

"Well, it normally doesn't mean anything good if my little brother and his goldfish suddenly rush out of their flat when they aren't even on a case," Mycroft explained, eyeing the two on the chair.

"So you followed them until I texted you," Leotie finished. "I wonder what your goldfish would say if he ever found out that you came running at my beck and call." Mycroft merely rolled his eyes.

"Why did you invite him?" Sherlock questioned as John pinched the bridge of his nose with frustration. Yiska tried to keep the smile off of his face, finding this whole situation way more amusing than it really should be.

"Because I knew that the nurse would refuse to allow me to leave until after a few tests and we don't have time for that. Ahote and the rest of my kin are in trouble," Leotie explained quickly. After a few intimidating remarks from the Holmes brothers and an hour later, Leotie was rushing out of the hospital, Yiska close behind, with panting breaths while the others raced after them. She would have collapsed as soon as she got a few feet away from the entrance had Yiska not caught her at the last second. "Thank you kitten. I never did like hospitals, they always carried the smell of death despite their cleaners," Leotie explained, trying to erase the worried look on his face. After she gained her breath, they all walked to Mycroft's car to exchange information about the laboratory while Leotie looked out the window, having already gained this information due to the cats that have been living with the homeless. Once they hit a busy section of road, she closed her eyes as her crown began to glow. Yiska, who as originally paying attention to the facts about the new case, suddenly turned his attention to the cat and tilted his head in curiosity. Her crown faded and she opened her eyes to stare out the window again, ignoring the kitten's curious gaze.

The car inched forward and stopped at a light before everyone turned to stare at the cat when they heard a sudden gasp emanate from her, her eyes staring wide out the window, ten minutes after her glowing had stopped. Sherlock and Mycroft followed her eyes while John and Yiska tried to bring her back from her paralyzed shock. Outside there was a park with a lot of teens skating around and doing tricks. The two Holmes brothers noticed that the cat was staring at one particular group surrounding a bench consisting of four teen boys: two leaning against skateboards, one half laying on the bench seat, and one crouched on the back of the bench. None of them really looked like they were out of the ordinary, thus confusing both Holmes as they tried to understand why the cat would react like that. Although, Sherlock had a suspicious feeling it had something to do with her cats. As the light changed the car drove off and Leotie turned in her seat to keep her eyes on the boys, shock still evident.

"Interesting," she whispers out, finally coming out of her shocked state, before returning to her friends as though nothing had happened. They were confused and tried to ask what happened but she dodged all of their questions with ease, a thoughtful expression and worry mostly hidden from her features. The group slowly went back to their original original conversation, occasionally looking over to the cat to check on her. Leotie's thoughts were soon overpowered by a strong metallic smell, forcing Yiska to nearly toss his breakfast and Leotie to curl in on herself in distaste.

"What's wrong?" John asked, fretting over the two's sudden reactions.

"Blood," Leotie growls out. "Lots and lots of blood." John was about to question what she said when the car stopped next to a security booth, catching everyone's attention except for Yiska. John was about to ask how they got there so fast when Leotie continued her comment. "We're here. Welcome, my cubs, to the Bloody Lab of Death."


	7. Chapter 6: Tragedy to Come

Mycroft was curious when Sherlock first started housing the woman he initially called mentally unstable. Then the government kidnapped her, just as he did with everyone who he thinks the detective will associates with daily, and began an interrogation he found that she, much like John, was different from the other goldfish.

"You must be Sherlock's elder brother," Leotie greets as she exits the car. "Strange, I would've thought you'd be bigger from how Sherlock's talked about you." Mycroft only gave an annoyed huffing noise.

"Why don't you have a seat, we are going to be here for a while," Mycroft suggested, gesturing to the only chair in the warehouse.

After the interesting conversation with her, the elder Holmes brother searched for her file only to come up empty handed. He was certainly intrigued by her, especially when she figured out his secret relationship with Greg Lestrade. His monthly talks with her became weekly when Moriarty showed his head and changed from Sherlock and John to how to improve his relationship with his goldfish. Mycroft found that she was wise, resourceful, and playful depending on what was needed at the time. She even had different ways of being playful depending on who she is with at the time.

He had also willingly supplied the metal claws for her use when the assassins surrounded Baker Street and the top of the line armor that hid under the sweater she had used at the time, after he had asked her to help keep his brother safe. Even when Sherlock went off to destroy Moriarty's web she protected Sherlock by hand picking fighters that were loyal to her and stealthy at the same time. Mycroft would occasionally see how she would mother the Baker Street boys when Mrs. Hudson was out of the flat and how Sherlock respected her like he did Mrs. Hudson. Mycroft would even, grudgingly, admit that he liked it when she would walk him through how to fix any bumps that Lestrade and he would have and how she would mother him from time to time. He remembered talking to his goldfish one night to discover that Lestrade had a slight fear of Leotie. Something about her nearly scratching his officers' eyes out and, more recently, threatened his life should he hurt Mycroft and Sherlock. He also found that John was there for that particular conversation too.

The government man could also see how careful she was with how she worded her sentences every time she would give out little bits of information that she really shouldn't, or couldn't, give out. She could tell you that someone was still alive just by saying that they were 'not with them at the moment'. She would tease with the truth, showing that she could see what has not yet been said aloud. Leotie can easily predict the future, having requested the armor and claws long before the first assassin moved in near them. It was because of these reasons that Mycroft was surprised with her latest out-of-the-blue request.

They had just gotten through the security gate to the lab and Sherlock and John, who was trying to help Yiska walk still due to the smell of blood, were farther away and out of earshot. Leotie had stayed behind with the car door open and Mycroft patiently sitting inside, even though he did not know her reason for waiting. Her mind was still distant in thought but she was determined. The elder Holmes brother could tell that she knew how this would end for the lab.

"Cub, you recall my armor and claws that are currently stowed away?" Mycroft didn't answer as she whispered this out, but she knew he remembered even though she continued to stare out to her other cubs and kitten. "After Sherlock and John return to Baker Street, find a newlywed couple by the name Ryhill. You will give them my armor and you will know them when you see them." Without receiving a confirmation, Leotie raced after the boys and left a wide eyed Mycroft in the car. During his visits with her, he has learned to see through pieces of her messages. He deduced her retreating figure over and over but could not see her plan for what is to happen, he could never fully deduce her unless she willed it. All he knew that is to come was the fact that Leotie and Yiska will not be returning to 221 B Baker Street again. As the car began to drive away, he hit his speed dial. After several rings, Greg picked up but before the DI could get a word in Mycroft interrupted.

"Leotie will not be joining us tomorrow for dinner," Mycroft states, a sore lump forming in his throat without permission. "I believe that she and Yiska will not be attending anymore invitations again."

SHJWSHJWSHJWSHJWSHJWSHJW

"What took you so long?" John asked as Leotie slung Yiska's other arm over her own shoulders. She fought down all her urges to make a disgusted face when the smell of blood mixed with cleaners grew. An employee, a short and stubby man with light brown hair that was thinning, came running by with a wheelchair and she helped John set Yiska down in it so that she could wheel her kitten around.

"I was asking Mycroft for one last favor," Leotie informs, finding it amusing when Sherlock makes a sneer for a split second. She leaned in closer to John to whisper in his ear. "If you don't tell him about your feelings, I will," she whispers threateningly. The doctor doesn't jump or flinch, he only gives her a terrified look. Sherlock and the scientist, who was tall and thin with red hair, were speaking to one another while they walked a few paces ahead of them. Leotie, who was still pushing Yiska's wheelchair, and John continued their conversation in hushed tones so the detective could not hear their conversation.

"I can't just tell, Sherlock," John panicked, think of the various things that could go wrong if he did. "He's married to his work. I-"

"John, you are apart of his work now. Not only that, but I have seen how you two gravitate towards each other. During the entire time Sherlock was away and taking out Moriarty's web, he cared more about my updates on you than anyone else. Cub, have I ever pushed you to do something if it wasn't for the best?" She and John had stopped walking as Leotie waited for a reply. John soon lowered his head and mumbled something about hands before walking ahead of her and entwining his fingers with the detective's fingers, causing him to pause mid sentence to stare at his blogger's red tinged face with surprise. Sherlock turned to Leotie with a panicked look in his eyes, causing her to giggle at his innocence before she waved her hand for him to continue forward. So he did. Sherlock tightened his grip on John before he continued talking to the scientist.

"I really don't see why the government is so interested in our little lab. We don't even have much to show. We've been trying to create a way to reach into other dimensions, find new resources that can be used and possible new life," Leotie stopped listening after that because the he started to get into the science of the portal and it's construction. As they entered, Leotie took in the hospital like structure, it's cool greys and flickering lights giving it a more menacing feeling than a hospital normally would which caused a shiver to run down her spine. She could hear all of the cats that were captured and still alive moan for her to free them, to allow them to return home. She wanted to cry from the heart wrenching sounds until she heard one particular voice that made her stop in middle of the hallway. "Miss, come along. I haven't showed you all of the experiments that came through the test runs yet," the scientist calls back, making Sherlock and John look back at the cat. Leotie ignored them in favor of staring at the dull grey metal door to the side.

"Look at you, always getting yourself tied up, my restless one," Leotie says to the door. The scientist looked as if he is considering her sanity while John and Sherlock shared a knowing look. No human could hear the reply as every cat that was imprisoned became eerily silent. Leotie allows a smirk to form on her lips. "I only bail you out because you are useful." There was a pause as she listened to the reply and a genuine smile formed on her face. "I love you too, my Ahote." The scientist was interrupted from his analysis due to his radio cutting through and someone talking to him. His eyes widened in surprise and flicked back to the cat.

"You're one of them!" The scientist shouts with horror and fury. Leotie turned to him, more markings beginning to glow around her body along with her crown and her golden-green eyes become cat like. There was a sudden wave that emanated from her that cause all of the humans to fall backwards with the exception of Sherlock and John, unlock the cells that her kin were held in, and release the chains that held Ahote back. Yiska let out a gasp of air as the smell of blood mixed with sanitation wiped itself from existence. The kitten stared up at the cat as she began to walk over to the scientist, a glare forming on her face and fear etched into his.

"Come my kin, for it is time to rebel against the two leggeds that have harm you so," she says with calm certainty as another wave is let out. Screams from security guards and scientists alike could be heard in the distance along with various cat like hisses and screams. Sherlock and John watched as their hallway slowly filled with various crouched bodies, both coming from farther into the lab and from outside where they had recently entered from. Sherlock quickly recognized some of the new faces as those from the homeless community that have recently shown up out of nowhere. Everyone stilled, creating an eerie silence as Leotie hovered over the fallen scientist.

"Leotie?" John asks, only to be hissed at by the majority of the humanized cats population. Leotie growled at her kin, show authority amongst the crowd, before turning to the startled doctor.

"What is it, cub?" Leotie asked as a small girl, maybe three or four years old, looked up at John with interest and curiosity in her dark blue eyes before turning her gaze to Sherlock and examining him similarly. She had long black hair that was a mess of curls, dirt covered tan skin, and bruises all over her arm.

"What's going on?" John asked as the little cat reached her arms up to the doctor, wanting him to pick her up. John didn't pay her any mind as he listened to the cat's reply.

"It is time for my kin to return home," she states as she easily picks up the scientist and tosses him, knocking him unconscious. The little cat whimpered when John still didn't pick her up, making him look down at her. The doctor sighed and released his detective's hand reluctantly to pick up the small child, who cuddled into his shoulder as Sherlock pouted. A door, the same one that Leotie had been staring at before the chaos, slammed open and a blur of black, green, and blue practically tackled Leotie. She was lifted off of the ground with a delightful cry before she was placed back on her feet and nearly snogged to death. She finally pulled away from her 'attacker' and nuzzled his cheek.

"Hello my flower," he says, nuzzling her back. Yiska, who was still in the wheelchair, looked away from the intimate scene. "I always knew my lady in gold would come save me." Leotie chuckle and rolled her eyes.

"As wonderful as this would be to just stay like this, we seem to be missing an heir," Leotie comments, trying to pull away. The playful look Ahote's eyes vanished and he grabbed her hand.

"The science two leggeds must have gotten a hold of her," Ahote says before turning to the kitten in the wheelchair. "Follow," he ordered. Yiska nodded and quickly got up to follow Ahote and Leotie through the winding halls, deceased security guards and scientist laying around like forgotten trash, with the doctor and detective, along with the rest of the cats, following along. After ten minutes of running, they entered a room of dying or dead cats. As they walked, Leotie's tattoos lit the way until Yiska gasped in horror, running ahead of the group to kneel in front of a blond girl. Her hair was matted and long, her creamy skin was pale and bruised, her chilling blue eyes barely opened as Yiska gently petted her hair away from her face. The cat sighed and knelt next to Yiska as the kitten was pulled up and away.

"No! I have to be with her! I can't leave Zorina!" Yiska protested, tears beginning to stream down his face. Ahote turned the kitten to him.

"Will you protect her with your life?" Ahote asked. "Will you protect Zorina, beginning dawn, from all dangers for the rest of your nine lives?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Yiska asked, still wanting to return to his old playmate.

"Can you speak, kitten," Leotie asked the dying girl, who nodded. "Will you lead and protect our kin, create peace among creatures to the best of your ability, and to love our kin?"

"Yes, your highness," Zorina chokes out. Ahote and Leotie shared a look as she carefully pulled the lynx to her feet.

"My kin," the cat called, allowing a wave to carry her voice. "Witness as our heirs are created and rebuilt!" The four glowed to the point that they were no longer seen. When the light faded Yiska was dressed in black, prince like clothes with his usually messy hair slicked back while Zorina was fully healed and dressed in a slim and elegant dress, her hair bright yellow and curled to perfection. The kitten and the heir turned and looked at each other before grinning and nearly tackling each other in a crushing hug. Ahote and Leotie did not change with the exception of the fact that Leotie's tattoos were more dimmed than before. The cat turns to her mate before she spoke. "You know the turns of this structure better than I, my restless one. We must find the portal that will return our kin home. We do not have much time left." He nods and takes her hand before running through the facility again, this time going to the farthest room from the entrance. Sherlock had to take the girl from John, since he had longer legs, just so that the two could keep up with the speeding cats.

"What does she mean by not having much time left?" John asked Sherlock, who shrugged. He could see that she was blocking him, refusing to allow him to deduce her. This never happened often, only other time was when she broke the handcuffs when they were on the run, but when it did, something bad is soon to follow. In this case, her words only confirmed the tragedy to come.

John and Sherlock were panting by the time the hoard of cats finally stopped in a nearly empty room. There was a circular metal machine on the far wall and a control panel near the door the pack had just raced through. The detective and doctor joined Leotie, Ahote, Yiska, and Zorina by the panel as they discussed how the portal is meant to be turned on. Sherlock and Leotie were the ones that actually analyzed the device and within moments figured it out. Sherlock pressed a button one of the corners as Leotie flipped a switch in the middle, successfully turning it on.

"I didn't think that would actually work," the cat mumbles under her breath. She then turns to her kin as Yiska and Zorina ran to the portal to help their cats through. "My kin!" She announces, a weak wave flowing lazily through the room. "It is time to return to whence we came. Go, do that which you are called to do." Groups of cats began to run through, five by five, as John and Sherlock tried to get the little girl to follow the other cats without success. Noticing this, Leotie walked over to them, her back facing the door. "Cubs, do not force her to leave," the cat informed. The doctor and detective gave her a confused look but waited to hear her reasoning. "She was born in this world from a fellow cat, one who is unfortunately deceased. She is a runt but strong. I sense that she will not have the ability to be reincarnated due to the fact that she was born here. She will have no one if she were to go to my dimension. She chose to trust you two for a reason, she most likely feels a connection to you two." The cat could sense Ahote shift to stand behind her as a chill raked through her very core. The last of the cats had gone through and Yiska and Zorina now waited for Leotie and Ahote to follow them. The time had come. Leotie gave the two young kittens a look that screamed to leave and not look back.

BANG!

Two screams were heard, one of pain and one of heartbreak, followed by a single thud of a body against the cold hard floor echoing through the horridly silent room. Yiska wanted to run toward the wounded but was stopped by Zorina, who could see the danger to come, and pulled him through the portal.

BANG!

The small child hid behind Sherlock, who was glaring at the now wounded scientist. The same scientist that Leotie had merely thrown unconscious. John was glaring, too, at the scientist, except his view followed the barrel of his hand gun. Another thud was heard, causing John and Sherlock's attention to change to the sad scene that had been created by the reached scientist. The doctor and detective watched as Leotie, whose markings were faint now, hovered over a fallen Ahote. John raced over, snatching Sherlock's scarf from around his neck, and went to place pressure on the bullet wound in the tom cat's chest when his hand was stopped by a slender one. He looked up to Leotie's tear stained face, questions dancing across his own.

"We knew this was to come," Leotie choked out. "We knew we would not be returning to our dimension." More tears poured out as retracted her hand in favor of running her fingers through her mate's dark locks. "I love you, my restless one," she whispers out in their cat tongue.

"And I, you," came his weak reply before releasing a shuttering final breath. John turned to Sherlock with a sad look to find that the detective was mirroring his look while Leotie began to ball her eyes out with heartbreak. John returned to Sherlock when Ahote's body began to fade away into nothing, as if he never existed. The cat's cry of despair grew as her hands touched the cold tiled floor and her marking began to return ten fold. John and Sherlock began to get worried as the building itself began to shake like an earthquake, bits of ceiling already falling. A light fell from above Sherlock, John, and the little girl but before they move out of the way, a barrier formed around them. Soon, the three lost sight of Leotie due to bits of building crumbling around them, her cries they could still hear. Even after everything around them went black.

SHJWSHJWSHJWSHJWSHJWSHJW

Mycroft was out having an early lunch with his boyfriend at a nice restaurant. It wasn't fancy but it also wasn't a place for fast food. It was right in between, and similar to where they had their first date. The lighting was low, only being lit by candles from all of the tables and the few chandeliers from above, and a single red rose was in a slender vase on their table. A plate of Alfredo sat in front of each man, one nearly gone and one barely picked at.

"What did you mean earlier?" Greg asked, knowing that Mycroft knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Leotie had asked me to give one of her belongings to a couple with the last name Ryhill. She was very specific, Sh doesn't want me to look for them until after Sherlock and John return to Baker Street. The way she said it indicated that she and Yiska will not be returning again." The sore lump returned to his throat so he cleared his throat and took a drink of water.

"You're going to miss her," Greg states with a smirk. Mycroft merely rolls his eyes and huff air out through his nose. "Despite her scary nature, I will too. She somehow kept your brother and John out of too much trouble. Although I still think she switched my coffee to decaf." Greg grumbled out the last sentence, causing a smirk to form on his boyfriend's lips. The government man may or may not have helped with that little detail. The smirk faded into a frown and the officer's shoulders slumped when a ping was heard from Mycroft's jacket. "Duty calls?" Mycroft nods when he reads the message before rising to his feet to walk over to Greg and giving the officer a small peck of the lips. He then begins to walk away, Greg's eyes following, only to stagger a few steps before falling to the floor. The last thing he heard was not the shout of his goldfish nor the movements of bodies that began to swarm his limp one. The last noise he heard was the cry of a heartbroken cat.


	8. Chapter 7: Goodbye My Friend, Hello My Love

221B Baker Street was surrounded in thick, dark, silence. John sat in his chair as Sherlock sat in his own, both staring into space and deep thought. The doctor's eyes were glassy from unshed tears while the detective's were slightly red from the small amount of tears that did fall. The small girl that had stayed with them, which the boys later found was named Kibibi when she was taken into the flat, was currently asleep on Sherlock's bed, her tiny body worn out from the events of that day. Mrs. Hudson came in merely a few minutes ago to give the two men tea, her own eyes red from crying. The flat was silent with the exception of the landlady's sniffles or Kibibi's sleepy whines every so often. John had unintentionally blocked out everything around him in favor of going over the events of yesterday afternoon. Over and over again.

John woke up to fluttering bird wings, a sad stillness, a weight on his chest, and surrounded by warmth. The doctor slowly opened his eyes, temporarily blinded by the oncoming light of the early afternoon sun. He found that the little girl from before was asleep on his chest and clinging to him like a lifeline. The warmth he felt around him, though, was none other than-

"I'm glad you're awake, John," Sherlock says directly into the doctor's ear, causing a shiver to lick his spine and lean in closer to the detective.

"What happened?" John asked as the detective helped him sit up without tossing the little girl off as well, causing her to stir but not waken. The doctor took a good look around and found that there was nothing of the lab left expect rubble. As he looked around, he started to remember and fear began to creep into his veins. "Where is-"

"I don't know but based on the position we are in, Leotie is in that direction," Sherlock states, pointing in front of John and slightly to the left. The doctor nods and begins to stand with the detective as the little girl starts to wake up. Passing the small child back and forth, Sherlock and John slowly made it over the chunks of rubble to find Leotie at the bottom, half covered by large and small boulders alike. Her eyes were closed and a small stream of blood began to drip from her mouth but she was still breathing slow and shallow ragged breaths. Sherlock was the one to reach her first, John slowly following behind with the child, and placed her head on his lap. John, with the little girl sitting next to him, sat next to the pained girl as her eyes half opened to look at the new trio. John began to try to fuss over her. "Everything's fine. It's gonna be okay," Sherlock murmurs, stroking her temples. "It's alright, it's alright."

"Sherlock, shut up. You're panicking and panicking won't help," John orders, trying to find the more disastrous wound. He went to go remove a boulder on her hip when he heard her speak.

"John, do not move the rock," she commands with a wheezes. Her breaths came in short and pained.

"I need to, Leotie. Otherwise you'll-"

"I know," she whispers out. John locks eyes with her, trying to understand what she was saying. His focused and determined look changed to a sad one.

"You're not going to make it back home either, are you?" John asked. He was answered with a gentle and sad smile from her.

"Not in this life, I'm afraid." She started coughing, more blood flying out of her mouth because of the violent movement. "I must tell you before I go, one last advice. Talk, walk, spend time together. Feelings are not meant to be hidden from those you care for. Shared feelings are powerful." She was rushing her words and her voice was growing weaker and more pained with each syllable as she spoke what needed to be said before she left this life. "'Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth'. Isn't…" Leotie took a shuddering breath. "Isn't that right Sherlock?" All the detective did was stare at her intently while John moved to one of the boulders to move them.

"Leo, save your strength," John suggested. "Maybe we can still get you out-"

"Move the boulders and they will fall atop you. Besides, a queen cannot live long without her knight,'" she whispers as she grows tired and her eyelids grew heavy. "Stay together, because sometimes all we have is our love for each other." She gave a shuddering breath before her eyelids won out and closed. John went to go try to wake her up but was stopped by a click of the boulders. He turned his gaze and found that she had already begun to disappear. The small girl watched with sad eyes as the two males lowered their heads in respect to the dead queen, John shuddering from held in sobs as Sherlock released a single tear.

Minutes after all of Leotie had disappeared, footsteps found the detective and doctor from behind, causing the little girl to turn at look at a woman in a dark blue business jacket covering a red blouse, black pencil skirt, and nice small heeled shoes climbing over the rubble. The two men turned to find Athena standing atop the rubble, phone missing from her grasp and a serious look on her face, completely set on a mission.

"Mycroft Holmes is in the hospital," she states bluntly before turning to return to the car, phone magically returning to her hands. John and Sherlock, who picked up the child from the ground, carefully followed the PA to the car to meet Greg in the lobby of the hospital. The same hospital that they had been at that very morning.

According to Greg, Mycroft had blacked out the same time that the detective and doctor had, the same time that the build collapsed around them, during their date and was rushed to the hospital. John had stayed behind with the little girl to talk to Greg while Sherlock went off to talk to his brother. The next thing John knew Sherlock was angry at his brother for insisting on following Leotie's last request to search for the Ryhill couple and give them her claws and armor from when she protected them during Moriarty's return. John had to follow Sherlock, who was being dragged kicking and screaming by two security guards, out the door with a sleepy Kibibi in his arms while apologizing to Greg for the scene on the way.

When the two men returned home with the child, before Sherlock took the small girl to sleep on his rarely used bed while John stayed behind to tell Mrs. Hudson what had happened, the girl spoke her name and pointed to herself, indicating Kibibi being the only thing she could really say. The doctor stayed with landlady for several hours to comfort the her before he finally let her be and dragged himself up the seventeen steps to the flat that he shared with , now, only Sherlock. He found the one and only consulting detective curled up in his chair, his fingertips together and placed under his chin, the evening sun gracing the dark curly locks, and his multicolored eyes drifting off into space. John had continued to study the detective as he took his seat across the way as usual.

"I love you."

John refocused on the present, confusion plastered on his features. Had he heard him right? No, it had to have been his imagination, thinking too boldly of the detective while he was across from him. It was probably just his imagination out of control. Then again, Leotie had quoted Sherlock on the improbable. He should make sure just in case, it might not have been his imagination.

"What?" John asked, still shocked but also intrigued. Sherlock's eyes focused on the doctor, determination and slight doubt gleaming in those multicolor pools.

"Leotie, she said that feelings are not meant to be hidden from those you care for," Sherlock explained, trying to going in a roundabout way of repeating himself only for John. "She knew us well, John. She knew we weren't a couple, knew that we didn't see a romantic relationship with each other. She knows that relationships are not my area of expertise. She knew us and she knew us well. She took care of us when Mrs. Hudson couldn't. Leotie wouldn't have talked to us about sharing feelings in her last breath if it wasn't for a reason. John Watson, I am in love with you." The doctor stared wide eyed at the detective with his mouth hanging open like a goldfish as the taller man gracefully rose from his chair and swiftly paced over to his partner, doubt making him slightly hesitant. Sherlock leaned over him, placing a hand on each of the armrests and effectively trapping the doctor in, his eyes showed worry but his voice held strong and true. Their eyes made contact and held. Sherlock slowly used one of his hands to gently push John's chin so that his mouth closed while following the muscles with his eyes. "And," the detective whispered, as if what he was about to say next was the most delicate secret in all the world. "I have it on good authority that the feeling is mutual." Sherlock's eyes flicked back up to stare into John's own eyes once more. There was a pause in the air before the good doctor realized what Sherlock was doing. Sherlock was giving him an out, a way to back out of what was coming into light, into the open. John scanned the other man's features just long enough before his instincts came crashing in. He grabbed Sherlock's collar and yanked, cutting off the detective's surprised gasp with his own lips in a brilliant kiss. A kiss, after Sherlock had relaxed, that showed each other all that they felt, all that they wanted to say but never did. Sherlock slowly and carefully moved to straddle John's lap while his arms wrapped around the doctor's back and waist. In response, John moved his hands to tangle in Sherlock's hair. The two stayed that way, only parting for little bits of time to breath, until a scream forced them apart. A scream from a little girl having nightmares in the detective's room.

SHJWSHJWSHJWSHJWSHJWSHJW

Even with all of his resources, it took Mycroft two weeks, six days, and thirteen hours to find the newlywed Ryhill couple. He still couldn't get any pictures for the husband and wife but he did get their address and was going there now to drop off the armor of his deceased ally. According to his sources, they were married only three months ago before they moved to London a week ago. Mr. Ryhill is a trainer at a local boxing club on the weekends and a high school gym teacher on the weekdays. Mrs. Ryhill is a math teacher at a middle school and is trying to start her own bakery. Statements from various people say that when the two are seen together, it is easy to see that they are soul mates that are perfect for each other in every way. However, one thing did concern Mycroft and that was the fact that the Ryhill couple lived in the flat across the street from his brother and John. Which is why the government man was sitting in the car in front of the flat, wondering who exactly the Ryhills were. Curiosity finally beating him, Mycroft exited the car, the armor and claws neatly in a box under his arm, and made his way up the stairs leading to the door. Using his umbrella to ring the doorbell, Mycroft waited. He could feel his brother's cold stare from across the street and through the flat window but ignored it. He rang the bell again as the doctor joined Sherlock in the window, John's stare joining the detective's. Getting impatient, the government man rang the bell again.

"Hold on!" A male's voice shouts from inside, followed by a thump. There was, what sounded like, a female giggle followed by quiet words that Mycroft couldn't make out. "I am not clumsy!" The man shouts as he opens the door, just out of sight from Sherlock and John. The man, who seemed to be in his early to mid twenties, had hair that was black as midnight and messy beyond a controlled ruffle, his skin was fair and hidden behind a crumpled green t-shirt that needed a good washing along the wrinkled up jeans he wore, and he was barefoot. All of which showed that the government man had interrupted a make out session. What did catch Mycroft off guard was the strange golden amber color of his eyes. "Hi there!" He greeted with a warm smile. "What can I help you with?" Mycroft reeled in his observations and returned to the task at hand.

"Am I to assume you are Mr. Ryhill and that your wife is in the house with you?" Mycroft asks. The man nodded, bright curiosity shining in his eyes. Mycroft brought the box forward and extended it to the man, who cautiously took it. "A friend recently passed away and has sent this to you and your wife due to circumstances. However, should it be used unwisely, I will personally return to collect it again." Mr. Ryhill nodded before Mycroft turned on his heels and left. As Mr. Ryhill closed the door his wife, around the same age as himself, rounded the corner, pulling her white tank top over her short sleeping shorts that showed her tanned skin. Her white with black spots, pixie length hair messy due to their previous activity and her golden-green eyes stared at her husband with curiosity. Mr. Ryhill pouted.


	9. Chapter 8: Fire and Speeding Shadow

Mr. Ryhill nodded before Mycroft turned on his heels and left. As Mr. Ryhill closed the door his wife, around the same age as himself, rounded the corner, pulling her white tank top over her short sleeping shorts that showed her tanned skin. Her white with black spots, pixie length hair messy due to their previous activities before the government interrupted them and her golden-green eyes stared at her husband with curiosity. Mr. Ryhill pouted.

"You put your shirt back on," he pouted, irritated. She released a light, tinkling laugh as she came closer to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek. "That government Holmes guy came by to drop this off and threaten to take it away."

"Well, it must be very important," Mrs. Ryhill hums, lacing her fingers under the box lid and lifting. There sat the armored hoodie and claws that Leotie once owned neatly folded away. Mrs. Ryhill just continued to stare at them before her eyes widened and she released a gasp. She then snatched her husband's face and fiercely kissed him, causing him to drop the box in surprise. A few moments of surprise later and he started to meld into the kiss only for her to pull away and rest her forehead to his. An excited smile spreading across her lips as a mischievous one was spreading across his own while they panted.

"Smart flower," Mr. Ryhill commented after he had regained his breath.

"Thank you, my restless one. I do believe we still have much to do, now that everyone knows the detective is back," she comments, causing her husband to pout. "We can finish what we started, if you want." His smiled beamed and he kissed her again while guiding her to their bedroom.

SHJWSHJWSHJWSHJWSHJWSHJW

Sherlock new something was wrong and it wasn't the fact that he and John watched Mycroft giveaway Leotie's armor last week. Nor was it the fact that Kibibi keeps insisting on calling them her 'daddy' or 'papa'. It wasn't even the fact that she wanted to have a 'sleepover' with Mrs. Hudson. No, it was the fact that John had gone out to get milk two hours ago and hadn't responded to his texts for half an hour now. Sherlock was in the process of thinking about reasonable explanations in his chair when a ping was suddenly heard from his phone. Racing to the coffee table and snatching up his phone in hopes that his boyfriend responded but was disappointed when that was not the case.

As Sherlock Holmes rushed out of the flat to search for his missing boyfriend, he noticed a cat sitting on top of a street light across from where he stood just outside of the door.  
-Friend

Confused and curious by the odd text, the consulting detective placed his phone into his pocket, grabbed his coat and scarf, and flew down the stairs and out the door while throwing on his coat and tying his scarf. He looked at the top of the street light across the street and froze. There sat a human like shadow. It was dressed in what appeared to be sweat pants, hoodie, gloves, and running shoes, all of which were colored black and their hood was up with two nubs on top that looked like cat ears. He could also identify the shape as a female and the only color that the detective could see were two green orbs where their eyes should be as she stared directly at Sherlock. He watched as she shifted her weight before falling to the ground in a cat-like crouch, causing his attention to focus on her glinting hands. On her hands were Leotie's claws.

"Are you the one who sent the text?" Sherlock asked as he continued to keep an eye on her, waiting to hear her voice and confirm what he already knew. He received another text notification and snatched his phone out of his pocket.

The Consulting Detective hurried after the cat as she showed him the way to his lover. Hurry he must, for the cat was quite fast. Hurry he must, for his lover's life was at risk.  
-Friend

As soon as Sherlock looked up from his phone, seeing that she was not the one to send the text, the cat woman began to run in the opposite direction with quick movement. He had barely dropped his phone back into his pocket before he raced after her. They took several turns before they came across two motorcycles parked on the side of the road. The cat pounced onto one of them before tossing a keychain to the detective. She pulled another key out of her pocket and started up her motorcycle before staring back at the detective as he hopped onto the other motorcycle and starting it up. Another text tone was heard but when Sherlock looked at the number, he noticed that a different number had texted him this time.

Save souls now!  
John or James Watson?

Before he could think to put his phone away, he received another text from the new number.

Saint or Sinner?  
James or John?  
The more is Less?

The cat drives away and the detective rides after her. He went over the two new messages, figuring out the code and comparing his directions with the cat woman leading the way. She was leading him to Saint James the Less. She was leading him to John. Once she saw that he knew what she was doing, she drove faster with him on her tail. The two, after taking several short cuts and avoiding a police officer, arrived to a scene where a fireworks party was starting in a small park in a square near a church. Sherlock received another text from the second number.

You have about ten minutes

The detective glided off the bike, almost forgetting to turn the vehicle off, and raced for the crowd in search of John. Meanwhile, children waved their sparklers around, and some people are playing small drums. One little was girl gazing at the gigantic bonfire which has been piled up in the middle of the park, made up of broken wooden pallets, furniture and anything else which has been scavenged. She looks up at the Guy Fawkes guy which has been perched on the top, completely unaware that John is lying on the ground in the middle of the bonfire, out of sight of all the people nearby. The children gather near, perhaps knowing that it is not long until the fire will be lit. John opens his mouth and tries to cry out but all he can manage is a faint moan. He thrashes, trying to push himself up and continuing to moan quietly. Sherlock heard his phone ping again. He had received two messages this time. One from the first number and one from the second. The second announced that he had eight minutes left. The other was giving him a hint.

Sherlock could not find John Watson in the mob of people and internally worried. Then he noticed that the cat was no longer by his side. When the consulting detective search, he found the cat hissing at a man with a flame as she insisted on protecting the bonfire.  
-Friend

Sherlock turned his gaze to the bonfire as a man approaches the bonfire with a flaming brand of wood. The children watch him delightedly. John manages to produce some slightly louder croaks but they cannot be heard above the excited chatter of the children and the drumming. Smiling cheerfully, the man tries to lower the brand to the foot of the fire only to become a target for the hissing cat woman and her claws. The detective rushed over to her and stared at the bonfire that she was protecting before he understood what she was doing.

"Oh my god," Sherlock mutters before he dived into the pile of wood and grabbed onto a croaking doctor before pulling him out, causing a few of the witnesses to cry out in shock and the cat woman to purr with delight. Once the detective had dragged the doctor a few feet away, he hovered over John to check for any injuries as the doctor's eyes fade in and out of focus. Sherlock helped John to his feet before turning to the cat woman only to find that she was gone. A final ping rang without the detective hearing it but when Sherlock checked later that night, he found that it was from the first number once again.

As the Consulting Detective saved his lover, the cat took her leave while fully knowing that they would be alright. Where did she go? Back into the shadows where she sped to her mate before searching for the person who ordered John Watson to be thrown into the fire. However, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson need not be afraid. They will be seeing the cat once more at a later date in time.  
-Friend

SHJWSHJWSHJWSHJWSHJWSHJW

A few days had passed since the bonfire incident and Sherlock was no closer to figuring out who had set it up. Especially since they had walked through his and the doctor's flat. Sherlock was sitting in his armchair with his eyes closed, sighing quietly and occasionally drumming his fingers on the arms of the chair. A grey-haired couple are sitting on the sofa and the woman appears to have been talking for quite some time. Sherlock had even almost dozed off during her story while Kibibi sat in John's chair and read some of the bigger books, which Sherlock had gotten down for her, and completely ignoring the older woman. Although, if anyone had asked her what her book was about, she would talk about the odd swirls scribbled onto the pages and how there were no pictures. In order to keep his mind active, Sherlock got up and walked across the table to stand in between them on the couch and stare at various papers on the wall. The woman was interrupted by the door opening to reveal John coming home.

"Oh, sorry. I'll just go to the kitchen to make a cuppa," John comments. "Do any of you want some?" The detective starts to herd the elderly couple off the couch and over to the door.

"Me! Me!," the five year old calls out as she raises her hand excitedly. John walks over and gives her a small kiss on the top of her head before looking to Sherlock.

"I would love some, John. Don't worry about these two, they're just leaving," Sherlock answered.

"Oh, were we?" The woman asks, taking interest in John as he walks over to the kitchen. After several minutes lingering at the door, Sherlock finally promised to call more often before closing the door with a sigh. He then walked into the kitchen to finally welcome him home with a soft kiss on the cheek.

"Sorry about that," Sherlock mumbles as he hugs his doctor from behind and nuzzles his shoulder. John smiles and rests his own head on the detective's dark curly head.

"It's fine. Client?" John asked, curious about Sherlock's reaction.

"... Just my parents…" Sherlock answers hesitantly.

"Your parents?" John questions, comparing Sherlock with his parents.

"In town for a few days," Sherlock explains.

"Your parents?" John questions again, not really believing it.

"Mycroft promised to take them to a matinee of 'Les Mis.' Tried to talk me into doing it."

"Those were your parents?" John turns in Sherlock's grasp so that he was now looking at the consulting detective.

"Yes."

"Well …" John lets out a few chuckles before continuing. "That is not what I ... "

"What?" Sherlock questions.

"I-I mean they're just ... so …" He looks at Sherlock who directs a hard gaze at him, narrowing his eyes. "... ordinary." John smiles as Sherlock tuts disparagingly.

"It's a cross I have to bear." John chuckles, then slowly turns back to the stove to finish what he had started.

"Did they know, too?" John asked, glancing over to Sherlock, who won't meet his eyes.

"Hmm?" Sherlock pulls away and walks over to the dining room table.

"That you spent the last two years playing hide and seek." Sherlock picks an imaginary piece of fluff off the keyboard of his laptop which is open on the dining table. By this point, Kibibi had turned around to watch her new dads' conversation as she found it more interesting than the strange scribbles on the pages.

"Maybe."

"Ah! So that's why they weren't at the funeral," John reasoned.

"Sorry. Sorry again," Sherlock says defensively.

"Mm." John hums as he takes two cups down.

"Daddy's mad at papa," Kibibi mumbles as she peeks at them from over the back of John's chair. Sherlock watches the doctor for a moment, then lowers his head at hearing the young girl's words.

"Sorry," Sherlock says softly. John allowed a soft smile to form on his face before he turned and strode over to the detective. The doctor cupped both hands onto the sides of Sherlock's face and pulled him down to give a gentle kiss on the lips. Sherlock connected his forehead with John's and closed his eyes.

"We should invite your parents to-"

"No." Kibibi's giggles could be heard in the next room as she hid in the chair.

SHJWSHJWSHJWSHJWSHJWSHJW

"John, explain why we got this," Sherlock said, handing the doctor an envelope. Inside was a white and gold cardstock with silver swirling writing that said:

YOU ARE INVITED TO MR. AND MRS. RYHILL'S RENEWAL OF VOWS.  
THE EVENT WILL TAKE PLACE ON MAY 25TH AT HYDE PARK AT 10:30 AM.

"We've been invited to our neighbor's vow renewal," John explained.

"Why? We have no connection with them other than they are our neighbors and Mycroft gave them Leotie's claws," Sherlock complained. "Why would goldfish want to renew their vows anyways? Isn't once enough?" John just smiled and shook his head. Although, if he were to be honest, John was thoroughly curious as to why the Ryhills did invite them. John would later find out that Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade, Molly, and Mycroft were all invited to the event and Angelo was catering the event. No one had met the Ryhill couple except Mycroft, and even then he only met Mr. Ryhill during that time.

"We should go," Kibibi says as she continues drawing on a paper on the floor. Sherlock and John shared a bewildered look at her statement before Sherlock noticed what she was drawing. Although it was messy and blobby, Sherlock could tell that she was drawing a picture of Leotie and Ahote. "Flower of the Prairie and Restless One will be there."

"What?" John asked, confused by the names.

"Leotie and Ahote, John," Sherlock explained, a pained expression in his eyes that was left over from their deaths. "We should tell her the truth."

"No, Sherlock. That's a bit not good."

SHJWSHJWSHJWSHJWSHJWSHJW

May 25th came slow. John and Sherlock had solved several cases during the time and took Kibibi with them on the less gruesome cases, seeing as how they had to wait until fall to put her into a better school. When the three arrived with Mrs. Hudson to the park, they found three picnic tables scooched together with plates scattered around it and food lining the the middles of the tables. Molly and Angelo were already seated and conversing while waiting for the other guests. As they all took their seats, they waited for Mycroft and Lestrade to arrive along with the Ryhill couple and poured several glasses of water for themselves. It was 10:15 when Mycroft and Lestrade finally arrived and only fifteen minutes when Mr. Ryhill came running over to greet them all. Sherlock was busy explaining to Kibibi about table manners when his attention was averted to John's choking form. The moment John caught sight of Mr. Ryhill, the doctor began to choke on his water. There came walking over someone he had not expected. Sherlock, seeing that John's gaze was fixed on where Mr. Ryhill was walking towards them, looked to their male host and froze. Mycroft picked up on their strange behavior and turned his gaze to Mr. Ryhill, yet not seeing anything out of the ordinary.

"Ahote?" John rasps out. Mr. Ryhill beams a glorious smile at the ex-soldier.

"I'm glad you remember me, good doctor," Mr. Ryhill comments. A figure comes running towards them and jumps onto Ahote's back, who looked as though he was expecting them to arrive. "You were right, they all showed up," he said to the person behind him. The person tilted themself so that they could see their guest. Everyone cried out with shock, surprise, and joy at seeing the one and only Leotie well and alive.

"How?" John asked, thoroughly confused.

"The kids from the skating rink, they were like you," Sherlock stated. She nodded and Ahote and Leotie sat at the table. She began to explain to those who didn't know that she and her mate were cats from another dimension. Then she went into detail about how she could sense the kids from the park had a little bit of a cat's soul lingering within them but it was obvious that they had no memory of being a cat, nor could they sense her summoning call when heading to the lab. She wasn't sure that the claws and armors would work, but Leotie figured that she would soon gain her memories back and allow other to receive their memories as well when they needed it. She then told them how Ahote was following them by rooftops and texting Sherlock while Leotie was the one to lead Sherlock to John the night of the bonfire.

"That's a great story and all, but how do we know this is all real?" Lestrade asked, not exactly believing their story.

"Sherlock and I saw the portal ourselves," John answered. "That's where we got Kibibi."

"I assume you already know who placed my John under the bonfire?" Sherlock asked Leotie, who nodded.

"It's a bit not good though," she states as she turns to look at Mycroft, who only raises an eyebrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have an idea for a sequal but I won't attempt to write it unless my readers really want a sequal. I hope you enjoyed this story. Remember, Reviews help fuel motivation!


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